


Into the Fire

by sword_lily



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Lizzington, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:47:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 26,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sword_lily/pseuds/sword_lily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place around the end of 2.19/Beginning of 2.20 and diverges from there. Red finds out that Liz has saved his life, and in doing so, placed her own in even greater jeopardy. Eventual Lizzington, but it's going to take some time. Moves into M rating as we get into Ch. 15.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I neither own nor created these characters, but man are they fun to play with!

Though he’d never admit it, Raymond Reddington almost enjoyed the experience of being in that hospital bed. He was free from pain, both physically and emotionally. He had no responsibilities other than to open his eyes, receive another dose of pain meds, and slip blissfully back to sleep - a sleep where he had no worries, no enemies, and could imagine himself back in a world where his life was simple. Beautiful. Happy. He could imagine himself living with his wife and daughter, before everything fell apart.

He felt his wife’s embrace...her kiss. He smelled his daughter’s hair...the scent of baby shampoo and the innocence of childhood. He felt the breeze on a spring day as they all played in the backyard, and the warmth of a fire, late at night in the winter, after his daughter had gone to bed and they’d opened a bottle of wine. It was a simpler time, with far fewer riches, and yet he’d give up his jet and flats and fine clothes - even his *77 - for just one more day. Just one more day. One more moment.

At some point, though, Dembe and Mr. Kaplan insisted on bringing him back to a more conscious state. They had important matters to discuss that simply could not wait.

 

Wincing almost imperceptibly, Red opened his eyes after the last of the meds finished their exit of his system. To the nurse at his bedside, he looked well rested and comfortably awake, but to Dembe and Mr. Kaplan, his pain was only far too visible. In many ways, their unconditional love for him made his pain their pain.

“We’ll take it from here, thank you,” Mr. Kaplan ordered the nurse away. “Raymond, we have a lot to cover in very little time. Dembe and I will be moving you to a new safe house in thirty minutes. It will be painful once you get up. You should prepare yourself. And, of course, I’ll be right here.” She squeezed his hand and with that, she and Dembe went to work packing up the things they would need and giving instructions to the guards as to how to properly dispose of anything that could ever tie Red to the location.

About twenty minutes later, it was time. Red was completely conscious, and though his mind was full of questions, he was yet too cautious to ask them in front of the others. He didn’t know who he could trust. Dembe and Mr. Kaplan were the only two people he had in this world, at this time. At least, they were the only two he knew still cared for him. New pain rushed through both his mind and his body as he wondered where Lizzie was. He’d sent her after Caul, but hadn’t heard from her. He remembered being prepared to die - a feeling he was all too familiar with - and then, in an instant, the armed men disappeared without an explanation. He must have passed out after that and been placed back in bed. He couldn’t remember.

Did Lizzie find Caul? Where did Tom go? Why was the attack called off? When he’d told her to leave, did Kate stay or go? After all of this, and all she’d learned, was Lizzie done with him - forever? The pain of that last thought was almost too much to bare, and he considered reaching for something - anything he could get his hands on - to silence his thoughts, when Dembe gave him an understanding but stern look and the tiniest of head shakes. “Soon, Raymond, soon,” Dembe’s deep, calming voice almost echoed in the room. It was as if he could read Red’s mind. Sometimes even Red wondered if the man possessed some supernatural ability to sense his every thought and feeling. Everything in Raymond Reddington wanted to rebel against the idea of waiting for answers for one single second more, but Red’s trust in Dembe was unshakable. He would wait.

 

Red sat in the back of the SUV, quietly staring out of the window until they’d cleared the warehouse by several blocks.

“Is she alive?” came the first words he’d spoken since surgery. They were about Lizzie, of course. His first thoughts were always about Lizze. They were a deep, gravelly rumble, and neither Mr. Kaplan nor Dembe could mistake all the emotion which they betrayed, no matter how deeply he dried to hide it.

“Yes, Agent Keen is alive,” Mr. Kaplan answered. She was seated next to Red, and Dembe shot her a look of concern. They both knew the line of questioning that was coming next, and neither one of them could prevent the range of awful emotions they knew their answers would bring out in Red. They wanted to protect him as long as possible, but they knew he would expect - he deserved - nothing less than the truth.

“We need to give you the information about what happened yesterday, but I need you to stay still. Your injuries were quite serious, and I won’t continue without an assurance from you that you’ll do as I ask. Can you do that, Raymond?” Mr. Kaplan asked, though it was more of a command. She was one of the few people Raymond ever considered taking orders from.

Red nodded his head in assent, and she continued.

“Agent Keen went looking for Caul, and as you said he would, he came for her. He provided the proof we needed to get the Cabal to call off the attack. Not a moment too soon, as you may remember.”

“What we don’t know is how long this information will hold them off. Yes, they are aware the fulcrum is real and accessible, but I believe this will only make them want it - and anyone associated with it - more than ever. They will be cautious at first, and that will work to our favor. But we don’t have much time.”

“Remind me to send Leonard a gift. Something expensive. Something worthy of saving my life. And keeping Agent Keen out of harm’s way,” Red said. His body relaxed ever so slightly, in spite of the pain, knowing that Lizzie was spared involvement in this death trap that was always one moment away from closing in on him and everyone he cared about.

Despite relaxing, however, he didn’t miss the look that passed again between Dembe and Mr. Kaplan.

“Tell me,” his voice commanded, returning to the deep roar that emanated somewhere in the depths of his body and soul. Mr. Kaplan knew better than to resist. He wouldn’t harm her, but she respected him too much to keep him ignorant of the realities of his situation. And that of Lizzie. Before she even opened her mouth, he knew what she was going to say. He needed to hear it, though. He needed to feel it. The emotion would propel him forward to fixing whatever was broken, to saving whatever was in danger.

“Raymond, Leondard didn’t take the fulcrum to the director. It was Agent Keen. The director called off the hit because she gave him the original - and then told him she had copies. She was magnificent. You would have been proud of her.” Mr. Kaplan let that sink in, and then continued, very quietly, “I don’t need to tell you what this means for her now.”

“Where is she now?”

“Working a case with Ressler,” Mr. Kaplan responded.

The rage he felt boiled inside him, but he maintained his classic coolness on the outside. Dembe and Mr. Kaplan easily recognized the twitch below his left eye that was the man’s only tell. Mr. Kaplan felt no fear, however. At least not for herself, not from Raymond. She knew that his rage - and all that went along with it - was the only manifestation anyone ever really saw of his true, deep emotions. Fear, and pain. So often, when someone rages, she thought, we are really seeing fear. We are watching the embodiment of that person’s worst fears, come to life.


	2. Ronnie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agents Keen and Ressler wait on a low level informant, only to realize he has valuable intel.

Elizabeth Keen was sitting in a beat up old Camry on the corner of an industrial lot, waiting on a low level informant Ressler claimed would help them nab the leader of an up and coming drug ring.

“This car smells like cheese,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the smell, annoyed that they were spending so much time on someone much smaller than a Blacklister.

“We have to fit in, Keen. Not everyone knee-deep in crime drives around in luxury cars like your boyfriend Reddington,” Ressler said, eating another french frie from his lunch. He had never gotten over the pangs of jealousy he felt when Reddington chose Elizabeth Keen as his confidante.

“You couldn’t find one that smelled like dogs or cigarette smoke? Or maybe a nice trash heap?” Or expensive Cuban cigars, Elizabeth thought quietly to herself, ignoring the boyfriend comment and avoiding eye contact with Ressler. Boyfriend... She quickly pushed the thought out of her head. Be grateful you’re not being lied to. Be thankful you’re no one’s puppet today, she reminded herself. You don’t need him today. You don’t need to spend one more moment thinking about him...

“We’re spending government money on this hunk of junk. It’s our job not to waste it,” Ressler continued. Am I partners with an FBI agent or am I partners with Captain America? Or is it Buzz Lightyear? Inwardly, Elizabeth groaned and rolled her eyes. Outwardly, she switched the subject.

“When is your guy going to show himself? By my watch, he’s over two hours late.” And I’m starting to smell like cheese, too.

“He’s coming. These things don’t always follow a strict timeline. He’ll get away when he gets away. Besides, where else do you have to be? I haven’t seen any mysterious phone calls or texts come to your phone. Are you two on a break?” Ressler responded.

“We’re not on a break. There is nothing to break from. Red and I have a purely working relationship. He’s recovering, and I have more important things to do than worry about him. Like waiting for your informant,” Elizabeth said.

“Oh, so now this is important?” Ressler retorted, a hint of a smile playing around the corners of his eyes.

“Every case is important. It’s my job,” Elizabeth said, not taking the bait.

Just then, there was movement behind the warehouse. Elizabeth and Ressler sat up, focusing intently on whatever might come next. As they watched, a middle-aged man with a beanie snugly on his head came toward the car, weaving to and fro.

“He’s drunk!” Elizabeth exclaimed, exasperated, “What are we supposed to do with his ‘intel’ now?” 

“Maybe it’s an act. Give him a chance,” Ressler said, but Elizabeth could tell from the expression on his face that this was going nowhere.

The man slid into the back of the car and sprawled diagonally across the seats. He hiccupped, and Elizabeth could smell the gin. For a moment, between the cheese and the liquor, she thought she might be sick.

“What’ve you got, Ronnie?” Ressler said as he began to drive.

“Hmmmm?” Ronnie said with a happy smile on his face.

“The deal. When is the deal going down?” Ressler was getting impatient.

“What deal?”

“You’ve got two minutes to sober up and give us some answers or I’m dropping you off on the side of the road. No steak dinner and Holiday Inn for you unless we get what we need.”

“Ohhhhhh, THAT deal. Why didn’t you say so?”

Elizabeth thought Ressler was going to explode at any minute, and she could hardly contain her laughter at watching him try to remain professional, despite how botched things seemed.

“Big Jay says it’s going down tonight at the docks. He says he’s got about 30 crates coming in. But you’ll never get close to them.”

“Why?” Elizabeth asked, suddenly feeling like they might actually be able to use Ronnie’s information.

“He says he’s handling one of the crates personally. He’s never done that before. It’s big. Something about ‘precious cargo’ and how if we mess this one up, we’ll have bigger problems than even the FBI.”

Ressler and Elizabeth looked at each other. Now it was definitely worth their time.


	3. Power Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cooper and Reddington. Insight into what Cooper thinks during interactions with Red.

“Sir, Mr. Reddington is here to see you.”

Cooper leaned back in his chair, sighing as he sank further and further back. With Tom Connolly breathing down his neck, a sparring session with Raymond Reddington was not exactly on his top ten list of things to do this day.

“Send him in.”

“Agent Cooper! I’m hurt! No flowers? No mylar balloons with those adorable little smiley faces wishing me a speedy recovery? Not even a get well card with your name signed by your secretary? And here I thought we had something.”

Agent Cooper merely smiled his exasperated, closed mouth smile at Red and waited.

“We have a situation.” Red’s smile was gone, and instead he was nodding his head in a way that meant “yes” to most people. Cooper knew, however, that when Red gave that nod, things were far from good.

“We always have a situation. You’ll need to be more specific.” Cooper refused to let Reddington see him crack.

“Elizabeth Keen. She is in danger.”

“She’s an FBI field agent. That comes with the territory. Again, you’ll have to be more specific.”

“She saved my life. In doing so, she’s put hers in greater danger than ever before. Sthe stopped the cabal, and now they will stop her. By any means necessary. You need to pull her from the field immediately.”

“It may come as a surprise to you, Mr. Reddington, but I am not in the habit of pulling agents from their duties at the whim of my informants. Agent Keen has been through training and she is fully armed. She can take care of herself. Pulling her now will blow her cover and put the lives of every man and woman there in jeopardy.”

“Then I’ll just have to get her out myself.” And with that, Reddington left.

Cooper picked up his phone and began dialing. Agent Keen’s phone went straight to voicemail. So did Ressler’s. He had no way to pass along Red’s warning, or to tell them that Red might show up and wreck their operation.

Though he put on a show of strength in front of Reddington, Cooper was worried about Agent Keen. Why did it always feel like a power struggle each time he and Reddington were in the same room? Why did he let this man get to him? Why was it so important that he not let Red see any weakness or fear? Cooper had always worried that if it came down to it, Agent Keen would choose to put her allegiance with Red rather than him. He worried that it was a personal flaw of his - that he wasn’t a good enough or a strong enough leader. If only he’d been more firm from the beginning, maybe he’d be more sure of her trust in him. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so threatened by Reddington.

Agent Keen was one of the best agents he’d worked with. She was good - strong - but lately she’d been a little distracted. Even if he wanted to pull her from the field, he wasn’t going to let Reddington know. And even if he wanted to pull her from the field, he had no way to reach her now. Powerless, Cooper stared out the window.


	4. Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red intervenes to save Lizzie. She's not happy.

Raymond Reddington walked smoothly and quickly back to the waiting sedan. Once safely inside, his figure crumpled.

“This is what I was afraid of. I have your pain medication right here,” Mr. Kaplan said. She hadn’t wanted him to go inside to speak with Cooper. She knew he would feel the need to act as though nothing had happened - as though he hadn’t been shot - as though he hadn’t almost died - just days ago.

“No medication. I’m fine,” and though she knew it was a lie, Mr. Kaplan acquiesced. There was no use arguing with him.

Red, like Cooper, felt the need to present a strong front. No one could see his pain, physical or emotional. Once someone saw your pain, they knew your vulnerabilities, and Red was becoming afraid that far too many people were aware of his primary vulnerability - Elizabeth Keen.

His plan - his original plan - was to watch her from the shadows, never interfering in her life. That all changed when he made a mistake. It was one in a series of mistakes for which he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself. He hired Tom Keen. No matter how he tried to explain it, he knew it would never be enough to undo the harm he had caused. His intentions, full of care, meant nothing if the effects were the utter devastation of Lizzie’s heart and dreams. They meant nothing if he left her unable to fully trust or love again. They meant nothing if they left her...like him. Damaged.

Red was called sharply out of his musings by Dembe’s voice.

“Raymond, we’re five minutes out. Are you sure this is the right plan?”

“I’m positive. Agent Navabi has told me about the conversation with Quon Zhang. Lizzie’s luck is taking a turn for the worse, and Karakurt is supposed to make an appearance on American soil today,” Reddington replied, “Agent Navabi called while I was inside. She’s helping with the operation tonight. Thirty crates are coming in - normally nothing to pique my interest - but one is of special importance. Big Jay is taking care of it personally, which means it’s not just your run of the mill shipment. He indicated he’s afraid of someone or something far bigger than the FBI. That, Dembe, is where Lizzie is. That is where I need to be.”

Dembe nodded and said nothing further. Sitting silently next to Red in the back seat, Mr. Kaplan was loading her gun and cleaning her glasses. She caught a glimpse of Red out of the corner of her eye, and she could see that he was in great pain. Ordinary men would stop and rest. They’d send their men in to handle the situation while they recuperated in a hospital bed. Raymond Reddington was no ordinary man. He would not rest until he knew Lizzie was safe, no matter what the consequences for him or his health might be. He was a man on fire.

Dembe parked the sedan a block from where the shipment was to come in. Reddington ordered Mr. Kaplan to stay there. The affection he felt for her ran deep, and he wouldn’t risk yet another woman he cared about it. He couldn’t focus on Lizzie if he was worried about anyone else. Lizzie needed him more than anyone or anything else right now, even if she hated him for it.

What Red saw when he and Dembe reached the entrance to the facility and looked cautiously around the corner was worse than he could have imagined. Ressler, Navabi, and - most importantly, Lizzie - were standing with Ronnie Stansen. Red hadn’t seen that low life in fifteen years. He had zero respect for him, and even less trust in the fact that he could pull off double crossing anyone, much less your average criminal and thug like Big Jay. Of course this is who Ressler picked to trust, Red thought with disdain. And now, like too many times before, he’d have to step in and try to fix Ressler’s mess. Lizzie’s life depended on it.

What worried Red the most, however, was that Big Jay was quiet. He was listening to Ronnie’s introductions without saying a word. The FBI agents wouldn’t know this, but Big Jay was almost never silent. In addition to being a man of portly stature, Big Jay had a booming voice. Red should have been able to hear it a mile away. When Big Jay became silent, he was unhappy. And dangerous. Red could sense that he didn’t trust Ronnie’s new recruits, and that could spell death for each of them.

“We can’t wait. Now, Dembe,” Red ordered. With that, Red walked into the room, arms opened as if he were greeting an old friend after many years apart.

“Jay! I came all this way and you didn’t even invite me to the party? Fortunately for you, I have wonderful intuition. I could just feel the fun from miles away! Say, how is your nephew - the one in Sing Sing, with the funny little scar above his eyebrow and the endearing speech impediment? I heard he narrowly escaped a few glances from a shiv the other day. Lucky for him, someone with excellent intuition was watching out for him and let him know what was going on. Marvelous, wasn’t it?”

Elizabeth Keen’s head whipped about the moment she heard Red’s voice. She felt a rush of emotions - what felt like all of them at once. She was angry that he was here, especially after she’d made it clear so many times how much she needed space. She was afraid that he was going to ruin all their hard work and interfere in what could be a huge case. And then, another emotion...one that made blood rush through her veins and rest in her cheeks. She wouldn’t name that one though. She wouldn’t acknowledge it. Wouldn’t give it the time of day. It would only get her hurt, and she’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

Jay turned and faced Red, a mix of awe, fear, and anger all showing on his face at one time. “A modern miracle,” Jay replied, not sure how to proceed, “Why are you here, Red?”

“Jay, Jay, Jay. You and I both know that this special shipment of yours is worth a great deal to a great many people. Like those people, I too have a vested interest in its contents. Your pal Ronnie here has brought me to make a deal. Right Ronnie?”

Ronnie, who had sobered up since his conversation with agents Keen and Ressler, nodded, wide-eyed. He knew Red was lying to Jay, which meant he also knew that Red was aware he’d brought FBI agents to Ronnie’s operation. If Ronnie found out - well, it wouldn’t matter after that. He had no choice but to play along. Red was his only chance out of this situation that had just gone sideways.

“Red, you know I respect you, but you’re out of your league here. This is way beyond even someone like you. I can’t cut you in this time,” Jay said, cautiously fingering the gun resting at his hip. Dembe, his hawk-like vision in full use, slowly raised his gun and aimed right between Jay’s eyes, a fact that wasn’t lost on Jay. He eased his hand equally slowly off his own gun.

“Jay! Don’t be silly. I’m not looking to cut anyone out of a deal. That would just be too predictable. Do you think I’d travel all this way just to do the same thing to you that you did to me years ago? Give me some credit for originality!” Red laughed, “No, no. What I want is just five minutes alone with your ...shipment...and then you can do whatever you like with it. The only conditions I have are that you get Ronnie’s people out of here. I don’t know them, and I certainly don’t trust them. Especially the pale one with the brown hair. She looks like a preschool teacher, not someone I want involved in my affairs. All three of these people - get them out, and then we can proceed.”

“And what’s in this for me?” Jay asked, though Red knew his protest was just for show. Jay was easily intimidated, especially now that Red saved his nephew’s life. It was always a good idea to make sure people owed you favors.

“My associates have a briefcase of cash waiting for you outside. That, and I don’t kill you. At least, not today,” Red said. No one in the room doubted that he meant it.

“Understood. Ronnie, get them out of here!” Ronnie looked panicked. He’d made a deal with the FBI, but openly defying Big Jay? Maybe if the perks were right, but he’d never cross Raymond Reddington. No way.

Dembe, Ronnie, and the three agents exited the building at gunpoint, but it wasn’t over. Not if Lizzie had anything to say about it. And she had plenty to say.


	5. Visitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red visits Lizzie at the motel. Despite her protests, she lets him in. Can Dembe keep them safe while they sort things out?

“OF ALL THE BULLSHIT!” Lizzie screamed as they arrived at the car.

“Please get in,” Mr. Kaplan said, unphased by Lizzie’s rage.

“No. No way. I’m going back there. He can’t just cut us out of an operation we worked on! I don’t care what he wants - that’s not how this arrangement works!”

“My orders are to take you safely out of the area, Agent Keen. Regardless of anything else, you must know by now how this part of the arrangement works, at least,” Mr. Kaplan replied. She understood Lizzie’s anger, but she wouldn’t let that get in the way of protecting her. She worked for Raymond Reddington.

“She’s right, Keen. Thanks to Reddington, our cover is blown,” Ressler said, kicking a plastic bottle someone had left littering the ground as hard as he could. He thought kicking something would release his own rage, but instead, the weak noise and lack of distance it travelled only reinforced his feeling of impotence. When Reddington was involved in a case, Ressler was never able to feel comfortably in charge. He always felt as if he were two steps behind.

“Navabi, I’m going for a drink. You in?” Ressler didn’t even bother asking Liz. He knew it was no longer an option once Dembe and Mr. Kaplan showed up.

Dembe had already returned to the warehouse to help Red. Elizabeth and Mr. Kaplan had a long, quiet ride back to Elizabeth’s motel room.

 

Around two in the morning, Liz was still unable to sleep. She’d taken a shower to relax her muscles, but the tension just wouldn’t go away. Two glasses of wine in, and she could feel a little warmth spreading across her body, but it wasn’t enough to kill the anger she felt over the botched operation tonight.

A knock on the door came shortly thereafter. She knew who it was. She always knew who it was. She peaked out the hole, saw the outline of a fedora, and walked away from the door.

“GO AWAY!” she yelled.

“Lizzie, you’ll wake the neighbors. Please let me in.”

“Let yourself in! You seem to have no problem waltzing right into places you’re not wanted!” Her voice was getting louder and louder (maybe it was the wine after all?), and just then someone from the room to the left knocked hard and loud on the wall.

“Lizzie, if you get too many complaints, they’ll ask you to leave,” Reddington warned in that patronizing tone he so often used with her when she wasn’t acting the way he expected her to.

He had a point. She’d sold the place at the Audrey, and she really had nowhere else to go. Getting kicked out of her crummy motel room in the middle of the night would only make an already terrible week worse.

Red heard the clicks of the locks and latches and was then greeted with a five-inch-wide view of Lizzie’s face.

“What,” she said flatly. It was more of a statement than a question.

“May I come in?” Red asked. The patronizing tone in his voice had vanished. Instead, there was a different quality. Lizzie couldn’t quite place it. Was it humility? Vulnerability? Surely not…

Lizzie backed up and allowed just enough room for Red to pass. Dembe would wait outside. As Red brushed past Lizzie, their arms and torsos grazing against each other, she caught a whiff of his smell. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed that smell, and instantly hated herself for even noticing. She sat in a chair as far away from him as possible. One where she couldn’t smell him for sure.

“Lizzie, I want to explain today -”

“Save it. I don’t care. Nothing you say will make ANYTHING ‘okay’ that has happened in my life since you came into it. Nothing.”

“You need to understand what happened.”

“I need to understand? I need to UNDERSTAND? What do you think I’ve been trying to do all this time? While you’ve been playing around with your half truths, that’s what I’ve BEEN doing. Well, here’s what you need to understand. You need to understand that these late night visits, where you try to make everything okay? They don’t fix anything. You can’t fix anything. It’s done. I don’t even know who I am anymore! I’m so far gone. So damaged...” Without realizing it, Lizzie was standing up and had taken steps closer to Red. There were warm tears streaming down her face. She knew she’d shown too much emotion, but it was too late to take it back. She slowly retreated to her chair and hung her head, her hands covering her face from his view.

If she’d had her head up - if her gaze hadn’t been clouded by pain and anger - Lizzie would have been able to taste Red’s own suffering. It was palpable. She’d hit right to his core, with that one word - damage. Red’s greatest fear, even above no longer having Lizzie in his life, was that she’d become so damaged - damaged like him - that she’d never be able to truly love anyone again. He couldn’t bear ruining the one beautiful thing still left in his life.

Red had tasted love twice in his life, and considered himself luckier than any man on earth for it. He’d also lost love once, and considered himself more cursed than any man on earth. If he lost love again, it might be the end of him, but if Lizzie lost her ability to love - it would be the end of everything.

“Please. Don’t say that,” his voice reached her from beyond the hands covering her face. She looked up just enough to see him, keeping her elbows on her knees and placing her chin on her palms. Her eyelashes glistened from the tears. It was all Red could do not to run to her and wipe them away.

“It’s the truth,” Lizzie said, her voice only slightly higher than a whisper. Though the words pained him, Red took hope in the fact that she was no longer yelling. Once he could get her past her anger, he knew he had a shot at having a real conversation with her. He moved closer to her, perching himself on the edge of the bed. He bent down, his face only a foot or so from hers. Looking down at her, his brows furrowed, and Lizzie could sense that he cared for her. As much as she hated everything he’d put her through, she knew she couldn’t deny that he cared. She wasn’t sure why, or how, but in some way, on some level, he did care.

“Lizzie, you’re not beyond repair. You are the strongest woman I know. The things you’ve overcome already in your life...they would end most people. Through it all, you haven’t lost your compassion. It’s what makes you human. It’s what draws others to you - your goodness...your light -” Red stopped abruptly, sounding as if he was choking on his words. Lizzie looked up and saw that his eyes were reflecting the light of the dim room. Though no tears were falling, she could tell they had filled every space in his eyes. She remembered him speaking of the light before, when they were preparing to attack Luther Braxton’s stronghold.

“If I’m such a bright and shining light, then why do you…” her voice trailed. She choked back a sob, and Red knew what she meant.

“Why do I keep hurting you.”

Lizzie looked up at him, nodding her assent, waiting. Red pushed himself a few feet away. Proximity to her suffering was almost too much for him. He knew he had to stay, but every part of him wanted to run and hide from the evidence of what he felt he’d done.

“You don’t know all the details, and I know...I know that frustrates you. Probably more than you think I can imagine. But I’ve been where you are - trying to play a game without all the pieces, without knowing the rules. It can feel like you’re -”

“Drowning.”

“Yes. Drowning.”

“So then give me the pieces! Help me, Red...please. Help me,” her voice took on a quiet, pleading tone that almost brought him to his knees. He felt powerless in her presence, and she didn’t even see it.

“Sweetheart...that’s why I’m here. It’s why I’m always here.” Slowly, he approached her, drawing her up to her feet, and there he held her in an embrace that she’d missed. For a few moments, she was able to escape the questions, the anger, and the fears. For a few moments, she could just be with him.

As she slowly raised her eyes, so close to his, and looked up into his face, she saw his eyes were closed -

BANG! BANG!

Two gun shots rang out from outside the motel room. Red forced Lizzie behind him before she even realized what was happening. With one hand behind him on her arm, his other hand reached for his gun and drew. His head, cocked to one side, focused with razor like precision on the door.

“My gun -”

“STAY!” Red commanded. With the days events still yet not entirely known to Lizzie, she had no idea what might be on the other side of the door. Red could only hope Dembe was the one firing the shots.


	6. Questioning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they ride away from the motel, Lizzie learns that Karakurt is in the country and may be an important part of her past.

“Raymond!” came Dembe’s yell from the other side of the door.

“Wait here…” Red told Lizzie.

Even though she knew things were dangerous, she couldn’t let Red go out there alone. As soon as he let go of arm, she reached for her gun. Uncharacteristically, she began to shake. It wasn’t that long ago that shots rang out and Red was on the ground, his life leaving his body, leaving her…

Red eased open the door and found Dembe standing over Jay’s body. Clearly things hadn’t gone well after Red and Dembe left the warehouse.

“We have to move, now” Red ordered.

“He’s still breathing,” Lizzie said, lowering her gun.

“Throw him in the back of the car. Let’s go.”

As the car sped across town, Red spoke with an associate on the phone.

“Excellent,” he said and then hung up.

“Who was that?” Lizzie asked, still trying to calm her racing thoughts, sliding slightly closer to Red in the back seat. 

“An associate. He’s got a room set up for us where we can question him.”

“I thought you had that all settled. Why is he coming after us? What aren’t you telling me?” She should have known there was more to the story.

“Lizzie, the shipment you were trying to intercept today contained one of Russia’s top intelligence agents.”

“Karakurt?”

“Yes.”

“You’re telling me you spoke with him for five minutes and then let him go? You let Russian intelligence place him on our soil and did nothing to stop it?” Lizzie was outraged.

“If you’ll let me finish, please.”

“Fine.”  
“The shipment contained Karakurt. I didn’t actually speak with him at all. I used that five minutes to allow him to escape - without seeing me. It was Dembe who released him. He believes Dembe has turned on me, which is exactly how we want it.”

“What good does it do us to release him? Cooper will never trust you again - your deal with the government will be made void. You’re insane.”

“Do you remember that tiny little patch like device you used to help capture Wujing? This time, I took my lead from you. You inspired me, Lizzie,” he said with his school-boy I’m-up-to-something grin that she found hard to resist.

Lizzie couldn’t help but feel a flush of pride at having taught something to Raymond Reddington, but it was temporary. Her instincts and training were kicking in, and now she wanted to know where Karricut was. She needed to know all Red knew about this man. She needed to profile him and create a plan, even if it meant working more closely with Red than she’d intended.

Lizzie made a quick call to Aram, requesting anything he could give her on Karakurt. She then turned to Red again.

“Aram’s going to give me everything he can on this guy, but I know you have more knowledge of him than you’re letting on. I need you to tell me what you know. All of it.”

Red didn’t want to share anything with Liz, but he knew she wasn’t going to drop it either.

“The cabal obviously brought Karakurt to our front door. I left before Jay discovered Karakurt was gone, but I can only imagine the sheer terror he must have felt, knowing the full wrath of the cabal would be upon him in minutes. Jay followed me force my hand, and Dembe took care of the rest.”

“I figured that out on my own. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about why the cabal brought him here. He’s Russian. So was my mother. So am I, apparently. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the cabal has brought in yet another Russian intelligence officer. I want the rest of the story, Red.”

“It’s no coincidence. They need Karakurt because he knows about the fulcrum. He knows about them. Hell, he knows about me.”

“And now he knows about me,” Lizzie finished his thought.

Red could only look at her, clenching and releasing his jaw, trying to force the thought of Lizzie falling into the deadly agents hands. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Lizzie, this is the last known photograph of Karakurt. It was taken eight years ago as he was sitting at a cafe in Madrid.”

In the photograph, she saw a handsome, athletic man drinking coffee at a sidewalk cafe. His blonde hair made him look younger than he really was - the lines on his face betrayed his age - but his physical fitness showed that although he was probably in his mid fifties, he could easily hold his own with any younger man. His expression was dark and dangerous, despite his deep blue eyes. On his left arm, holding the coffee cup, there was some discoloration.

“What’s wrong with the photograph?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“Here - his arm. Why does it look blurry?”

“Those are burn marks, Lizzie,” Red said. He waited for the reality to set in.

Lizzie felt like she was falling. It had become such a familiar feeling to her lately.

“That’s how he knows you. He was there. You were there together.”

“Lizzie -" Red's jaw clenched, and he shook his head.

“Is he...was he...the burns. Is he the man I saw on the floor? Is Karakurt my father?” Lizzie pleaded with her voice and eyes.

“Dembe, a detour. Please take us to my flat. Agent Keen and I need some privacy.”


	7. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We return to Red's flat and learn how Red first meets Lizzie.

The vehicle pulled up to Red’s flat, now a familiar location to Lizzie.

“Raymond…” Dembe gestured to the half-conscious man in the backseat.

“Take him as planned. Have Ted Grimley meet you there. If Jay has anything of use to us, Ted will find it.” Ted had done an excellent job for Red in the past, particularly with Meera. He had no doubt that he could handle someone as low-level as Jay.

Dembe nodded and left.

Red and Lizzie walked two flights up the cozy, unpretentious flat that seemed so incongruous with every other place Lizzie had ever seen Red inhabit.

“Tea?” Red asked, cautiously. He knew this would be a long and difficult conversation.

“Yes, please.”

As Red set to work in the tiny kitchen, Lizzie peered around the flat again. There were so many items from Russia. It was clear that Red had spent some time there. She stopped when she opened a tiny photo album. It was white and had flowers on the front, along with wedding bells and doves. Red’s wedding album.

She opened the album. A beautiful blonde woman, glowing as she slipped into her white shoes, greeted her. There were photos of other women in hideous matching dresses, men in tuxedos, older women in floral suits. And then the groom. He looked as handsome as she’d imagined he would in his dress uniform. Lizzie imagined that marrying Red must have felt like the scene from An Officer and a Gentleman when Richard Gere swept Deborah Winger off her feet and carried her away. Then she flipped to the end of the album and saw just that - Red carrying his wife amidst a shower of white rice. The joy, the youth, the innocence on his face made her smile.

“I’ll take that,” Red said gruffly.

“I’m sorry, I -”

“We need to talk about Karakurt.” Red must really not want to talk about that album, Lizzie thought, if he’d rather give me answers about my family.

Red positioned himself next to Lizzie on the couch. He knew the conversation to come would take a great emotional toll on her, and he wanted to be near...if she needed him.

“Let me start by saying I don’t want to have this conversation. I told you never to do this again. You were never to risk your life for mine again. And yet here we are. ”

“Yes, here we are, and here we go again. Red, as angry as I get with you...as much as I wish it weren’t true, I do care about you. Professionally, it’s my job to keep you alive and working with the taskforce. Personally….personally, I don’t know what to think from one minute to the next. Maybe it’s because you’re the one link I have to my past. Or maybe because you’re the only person that’s seen the darker side of me in action. Maybe…” she couldn’t finish the thought. She did not have feelings for him that way - she wouldn’t allow it, “Maybe I’ll never know. But at the end of the day, for reasons I cannot fathom, I do care about you - even on a personal level.”

“Lizzie, from this point forward, you are not allowed to make the same mistakes. You cannot for one second think that your life is not more valuable than mine. What you bring to the world - the light you shine upon it - is worth more than a thousand Raymond Reddingtons.”

“Or maybe it’s equal to one Raymond Reddington. Did you consider that? That we are equals? Can your brain possibly fathom that? If not, then what about your heart? Or is it so frozen that you can’t begin to let anyone in - even the light you claim to be so desperately drawn to?”

“Let me tell you about Karakurt, and then you can decide for yourself how equal we are.”

Lizzie took another sip of tea and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You obviously know I was married. I had a wife and daughter, and I loved them both more than life itself. I was young when I got married. My parents thought I was too young, and maybe they were right, but love takes control over you - not the other way around. It renders you powerless.”

Lizzie lowered her eyes, remembering the last time Red had described love in this way. She knew that feeling all too well, and it brought up the shame she felt at how she handled the situation with Tom.

“I also had a rich social life, and a best friend, Aaron. He was like a brother to me. Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this cruel monster you see before you. Once upon a time, I loved and was loved,” Red smiled wistfully.

“Aaron was stationed overseas for much of the next four years, and rumor had it he was handling sensitive information regarding the relationship between the United States and the then Soviet Union.”

“One night, I got a call from Aaron. He needed a place to stay. It was an emergency.”

Red set his cup down.

“Aaron sounded desperate, and something told me not to invite him to the house. I didn’t want to upset my wife and daughter. So I gave him directions to my aunt’s old house just outside the city. She’d passed away years ago, and I only used it when I needed some place to get away. It was quiet, and had plenty of room for him to bring his daughter. Masha.”

“Aaron was my father? This is how you knew him? But I thought -”

“This is how I knew Aaron. He and you lived there quietly for about six months. My wife and daughter met you. They thought your accent was adorable,” Red said quietly, a wistful look in his eyes.

“Of course, Aaron changed your name to Elizabeth. He didn’t want you associated with your Russian past. I thought it was because he was so hurt by your mother. Lizzie, I had no idea what was coming next.”

“Late one Friday night, I received a panicked call from Aaron. He’d seen a car pull up his drive and wanted me to come immediately. It was unusual for him to sound so worried, so I got in the car and drove there as quickly as I could. What I found when I got there...Lizzie, that night I saw your mother. I knew that things had taken a turn for the worse, and I feared it would never be undone. I believe, to this day, that I was right”

“This was the night of the fire,” Lizze said.

“Yes. Lizzie, tell me what you remembered from that night…”


	8. Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a transcript of the cleaned up audio file from Lizzie's fire memories. I've compressed a few things to keep it flowing, because I want her to tell the story as she remembers rather than interlaced with the doctor's (Gloria Reuben) questions, etc. I spent some time listening and re-listening to that file, and I think I've nailed it (again, with some editing for flow.)

Lizzie began recounting to Red what she heard while hiding inside the closet. Though he’d been there for much of her memory recovery session, she’d never shared with him anything beyond knowing that both he and her father were there.

“I remember my father telling me to hide in a closet...”

My father: Okay, stay here sweetheart. No matter what happens, you need to stay here and not come out until I come get you, understand?

My mother: Where is she?

Father: You shouldn't be here. You can't be here.

Mother: I'm not leaving without Masha.

Father: Her name is Elizabeth.

Mother: Masha!

Father: She's not going back with you.

Mother: You can't take her from me. How could you steal her from me?

Father: I didn't! You wouldn't let me see her!

Mother: Masha!

Father: Get out! Now!

Mother: Get your hands off me! Did you think you could get away with it? That I wouldn't find you?

Father: Masha - you're not here for her.

Mother: Listen, you're in trouble.

Father: Because of you!

Mother: Yes!

Father: You told them.

Mother: Yes, I did. I told them. It was my job.

Father: To spy on me?

Mother: Yes! ...No - I didn't want to! I tried to protect you.

Father: Is that what you call it?

Mother: I never dreamed that they'd threaten Masha.

Father: And that's how you justify it?

Mother: I came here because I love you. They'll kill you if you don't give it back.

Father: They'll kill me if I do!

Mother: Masha! Masha baby?

Father: She's not here.

Mother: Did you really think I'd let this happen? That I wouldn't come for her? That I wouldn't find you?

Father: Hey! Get away from me! It's not here. How could you do this, when it’s the only thing keeping me alive. Who they hell are they? [I saw two men enter the room. One had brown hair....the other was blonde, I think]

Mother: Split up. Start with the basement, the attic. Take it apart. Come every inch.

Father: It's not here. You're not taking her.

Mother: Are you crazy? Stop! Get away! Stop!

“...I remember gunshots...and screaming. And then seeing a man, lying on the floor, surrounded by frames. Who were these people, Red?” Lizzie asked, one tear making its way down her left cheek.


	9. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The death of Lizzie's mother, and more revelations about her father.

Instead of answering her question, Red gently took the cup and saucer out of her hands. He reached one hand out and placed the tips of his fingers gently under her chin. Slowly, gently, lovingly, he turned her face upwards, so he could see her eyes.

“Lizzie-” Red almost choked on her name. He tried again, clearing his throat, “Lizzie...we don’t have to keep going. Just say the word, and we can stop.”

Lizzie blinked, and several tears fell again. She looked into his eyes. For a moment, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know more. She imagined just leaning in, placing her head on his shoulder, and allowing him to protect her from the world. As little as she knew, she was sure of one thing - he would protect her at all costs, even if she didn’t want him to.

She shook her head, once to say no, and once to shake the thought from her head. She was an FBI agent. She was strong, and now hardened. She could handle it. She had to handle it.

“Lizzie, you have a remarkably clear memory of those events considering the trouble I took to erase it.”

“I know the events were terrible,” she said, “And that I most likely am remembering the deaths of my parents, but...many people lose their parents and witness horrible events. Why try to change my memories? What’s so special about mine? Do you just not want me to know you were there, looking for the fulcrum?”

“It’s not that simple…”

“It never is. Your life is in danger. My life is in danger. Now, Red. Please.”

“When I arrived at the house that night, I saw two cars I didn’t recognize, parked at the side of the road, a little ways away from the house. I knew that whoever it was didn’t want to be seen approaching the house.

“As I approached from the rear entrance, I heard shouting. A woman’s voice - I voice I’d know anywhere.”

“Katarina’s?”

“She was infamous in the intelligence circle, and I’d had occasion to meet her in other dealings. She and Aaron were arguing, about you. I’d never known who your mother was. Honestly, I assumed you were the product of a love affair he’d rather forget...and I was mostly right. Except that the love affair was with one of the most dangerous KGB agents the world has known.

“Your mother targeted Aaron. She knew he was in possession of high level intelligence. He knew she had connections in the government, but he never suspected how high they went.

“Once he knew she’d been spying on him, he ended the affair. She cut him out of your life, and he was devastated. On top of that, she’d stolen the fulcrum from him, and his life was in danger. He took you to the United States, and she came after you.”

“She must have been devastated, to have her child stolen from her,” Lizzie pondered, feeling sympathy for the woman she’d never known.

“It’s possible...but you didn’t know Katarina. Lizzie, she hid the fulcrum in your toy rabbit. She knowingly put your life in danger. She was there looking for you because she knew you had the fulcrum. And she brought Karakurt with her to find you, and it.”

“So he was the blonde man I remember?”

“Yes. When I arrived, your mother and Aaron were fighting. They struggled, and…”

“And Aaron killed my mother.”

“No, Lizzie,” Red braced himself for what would come next, “I killed your mother.”

Lizzie recoiled from him, moving to the farthest edge of the sofa. How could he hide this from her? Could she even believe it? There had been so many equivocations between them that she didn’t know how to respond. And yet, the pain he exhibited as he spoke those words couldn’t be denied. His back curved, his head hung, and his eyes closed. She couldn’t deny that the emotions were there, and that, no matter how much either of them wished it weren’t true, Red had indeed killed her mother.

“Why?”

“I believed she would kill Aaron. And you.”

“You believed a woman would kill her own child???” To Lizzie, a woman who’d always longed to be a mother, it was impossible to imagine.

“Lizzie, Katarina was responsible for the deaths of many innocent people over the course of her career. Men, women, children - it didn’t matter to her. Her mission came first, above friend or family - even her own offspring. I couldn’t take the risk that she would harm either you or Aaron.

“Aaron stood there shocked, and in that moment, the men Katarina had brought with her descended upon us. Karakurt had instructions to set the place ablaze if the fulcrum wasn’t found. There was to be no evidence that Aaron, the fulcrum, or…” Here, Red’s words became throaty and choppy again, “Or you...were ever there.

“The smoke was beginning to reach us as we struggled. Aaron was able to take out one man, but not before Karakurt shot him in the chest. I tried to stop him, but the smoke - there was so much smoke…”

“I remember,” Lizzie said quietly.

“Yes...of course. I couldn’t see Karakurt, and then something hard and heavy fell upon my head, and I was out. I wasn’t roused until the tiny screams of a little girl…” Red couldn’t continue. “Lizzie, your tiny voice...you saved my life.”

Red’s fists gripped the edge of the sofa. He was trying desperately not to lose control. He’d laid everything out there for her about what he’d done, and he couldn’t take it back.

“Red, I had no idea...I could never have imagined that…”

“That I was more of a monster than you’d ever dreamed? That I’d failed to provide a safe house for you and Aaron? That I’d taken away from you one of life’s most precious gifts - a mother?”

“No, Red. Please...look at me.”

“No,” came the chilling, gravelly voice. Lizzie hadn’t expected this. She was hurt and confused.

“Don’t try to comfort me. I don’t deserve - don’t touch me…” but Lizzie was already there, holding his hand with her right, placing her left hand on his shoulder.

“Red, you couldn’t have known they were coming for me. You couldn’t have prevented any of this. Katarina is the one to blame. She was responsible for ripping me from my father, for trying to hurt me, and even you.”

“Yes, she is responsible for much of it. Karakurt is responsible for much more than that. Lizzie, you were right. Karakurt is your father.”


	10. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie learns just why her father is so dangerous. Red makes an emotional confession.

“But...Aaron...he brought me, he named me…you said my father died in that fire.”

“And he believed he was your father. We all did. Until we discovered who your mother was. Lizzie, after I took you out of the burning home, you stayed with my family for just under 48 hours. It was close to Christmas, and I thought being around another little girl, even one that was a few years older, might bring you some small measure of comfort. My wife adored you...would have made you her own...but we knew it wasn’t safe. Karakurt and his men, they knew who I was.

“I ran your DNA against Aaron’s, and it wasn’t a match. In fact, we only found one hit in the entire system. Karakurt - he was your father.

“Katarina was notorious for affairs with powerful men - Aaron amongst them - and she must have been involved with both men at the same time. It’s likely everyone thought you were Aaron’s, and to this day, you and I may be the only people who know the truth. Lizzie, it needs to stay that way,” Red said, his voice becoming hard again. He knew the soft spot Lizzie had in her heart for family, and he couldn’t risk her reaching out to Karakurt.

“You don’t think he knows?”

“I’m positive he doesn’t. If he did…”

“If he did, what?”

“Karakurt is no father, Lizzie. Do not consider him to be any more than a donor of biological material.”

“And why is that?”

“If he did, he would only be that much more determined to kill you.” Her horror at the realities of his words paralyzed her with fear. “He is one of the most lethal men in the world, and prides himself on having no vulnerabilities. He would kill you himself, Lizzie, if only to prove to the world that he is as hard as he claims. He would be the Okonkwo to your Ikemefuna. The discovery of the fulcrum - the one thing that has eluded him all these years - would be the icing on the cake. The world would know that nothing could make him weak, and they’d know that he punished those who kept things from him.

“Two birds, one stone…”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Red said, daring to move closer to her on the sofa. He could sense her shutting down. She was beyond tears. She was in some sort of emotional shock, and he couldn’t let her stay there.

He placed one hand on her knee. She didn’t move. He moved his other hand to her upper arm. Still nothing.

“Sweetheart…”

Slowly her head turned towards him.

“And now he’s here,” she said. There was no life in her eyes.

“Looking for you. And me. The cabal has sent him after us. Dembe and my associate are getting what they can out of Jay, but it’s not going to be much. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you have to do everything I say, just as I say it. No FBI training could ever have prepared you for this. I think it would be best if you went on vacation. We can have Mr. Kaplan make the arrangements. I don’t want you hear for this...for any of this, if I can help it.”

The glaze disappeared from her eyes at the mention of being sent away.

“You want to send me away? When you know you could very well die at any moment? Red, I don’t care what happens to me. I’ve shown you time and again that I’m stronger than that. And don’t worry about any lingering sentimentality you think I might have over a biological father I never knew. I have no illusions about happily ever after, romantically or otherwise. If he taught me nothing else, Tom has taught me that.”

“It’s my fault, Lizzie. I wanted you to avoid the same fate that Aaron suffered. I wanted you to know the joy of a normal life. I wanted you...I wanted you.”

Lizzie wasn’t sure she heard him correctly.

“You wanted me? What do you…”

“Lizzie, I’ve been protecting you since you were a child. But as you grew into a woman, as I saw how brilliant and strong and soft you are, my feelings...they changed. I’m under no delusions. I do not imagine that we would ever be anything other than this - coworkers. But I cannot deny that the things I do, they’ve been out of love. You deserve so much more from a man, and I would never entertain the possibility that you’d settle for someone...like me.”

“Red, don’t you think that I -”

Just then, there was a courtesy knock, and Dembe entered the room. “Raymond, there’s movement. Karakurt is in play.”


	11. Residence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karakurt is after Lizzie. Dembe takes her to a safe house prepared specially for her.

Red and Lizzie moved apart from each other, Lizzie choosing an easy chair nearby to make room for Dembe on the sofa. Dembe looked uncomfortable, and rather like he regretted interrupting, even though he knew he had no choice.

“Jay?” Red asked.

“Nothing. Mr. Kaplan is taking care of it.”

“As I suspected. Dembe, tell me what I’m seeing here,” Red squinted at Dembe’s laptop screen.

“An electronic layout of the Audrey,” Dembe said, “And that blinking dot...is Karakurt’s position.”

Lizzie and Red held each others glance for only a second, before she said, “He knows, doesn’t he.” They watched as entered the apartment that had once belonged to her. She hoped the new owners hadn’t moved in yet. She didn’t want to imagine what might happen to them because of her.

“He knows something,” Red replied, returning to the monitor, his familiar eye twitch making another appearance “but we can’t make assumptions about what he knows. He’s certainly there because of you. We don’t know if it’s the fulcrum he wants, or - ”

“What do we do?” Lizzie asked, feeling a lump of fear beginning to rise in her throat. She’d never known someone to stalk her like this, and certainly not an internationally known and feared assassin. She hoped he couldn’t hear the crack in her voice.

“You will do nothing,” Red said, nodding, “Dembe will take you to one of my safe houses. And he will stay with you until things are handled.”

“Raymond -” Dembe began to protest. While he had grown fond of Elizabeth Keen, he could never imagine abandoning Red in such a situation.

“Lizzie, gather your things. My safe house is fully stocked. You will want for nothing.” He saw her begin to open her mouth to protest. “This is non-negotiable.”

“How are you going to be safe, all alone against this...monster?” Lizzie asked, tears forming in her eyes. Red saw her hand begin to shake as she reached for her bag.

“Whatever makes you think I’ll be alone?” Red said, a Cheshire cat grin spreading across his face. He gave Lizzie a kiss on the cheek, and with that, Dembe ushered her out of the flat.

Twenty minutes later, Dembe and Lizzie arrived in front of a modest looking building. They climbed three flights of stairs, and opened the door to a set of rooms that were far from modest. What the suite lacked in size, it made up for the most luxurious fabrics, hues, furnishings, and fixtures that she’d ever seen.

“I will take the smaller room to the right,” Dembe said. “Please make yourself at home.”

Lizzie walked into the master suite. She found a shelf full of her favorite books, and another full of the books Red was always telling her to read. Texts he thought she’d like, and texts that reminded him of her. She marveled at the coincidence of seeing them all collected in one place...

She moved on to the closet. The closet was filled with clothing! “What on earth?” Lizzie pondered, unable to understand why Red would take the trouble to keep women’s clothing at a safe house. With a pang of jealousy that embarrassed her, she wondered to which of his many mistresses they might belong. She carefully reached out one hand to touch the expensive fabrics. She looked for a tag to indicate who made the garments only to realize they were each hand made. One dress in particular, a deep red satin number with exquisite black lace detail, still had a hand-pinned note attached to it - instructions for the dressmaker. She was startled to see that the measurement specifications for the garments matched her exactly.

Lizzie was tired, and as she replaced the dress, her sleeve passed close to her face. With great horror, she realized she could still smell the faint hint of cheese on her clothing. Ressler’s stupid car! Could Red smell it too? Did he sit close to her, bend in to kiss her on the cheek, only to find himself greeted with the stench of old cheese? Angry with Ressler for being so cheap, and mortified with herself for not catching it sooner, she stripped and threw the day’s work clothes in the trash.

After a hot shower, Lizzie went back to the closet. If the dress fit her, maybe the other items would as well? Dembe did say to make herself at home…

She selected a pair of grey, cropped leggings and a sumptuous, over-sized, cream-colored cashmere wrap cardigan. After tying the belt in place, she slipped her feet into matching cream ballet style slippers and walked back into the living room.

“Some wine, Elizabeth? I believe Mr. Reddington has a bottle of your favorite Chardonnay on hand, if you’d like.”

“Dembe, you’re a man after my own heart,” Lizzie sighed and sank down into the brown leather sofa. Dembe had taken the liberty of lighting the gas logs. He brought her the wine glass.

“Dembe, do you think…”

“I think Mr. Reddington has survived a very long time living between two worlds. I do not believe that he will stop surviving any time soon,” Dembe said, sitting down at the small dining table and opening his laptop screen. His words said he had complete faith in Red, but his nonstop work on the computer also told Lizzie that he cared about Red, and that, as skillful and shrewd as Red was, Dembe would never stop worrying until he knew the threat against them was eliminated.

“Do you think Red would mind if I searched around for a blanket? It must be the stress of the day...I’m feeling a little chilly.”

“Elizabeth, you may use anything here you like. Mr. Reddington has selected them all. For you. Everything here is for you.”

“But how could he know - … do you really mean everything?”

Dembe gave a slight nod in the affirmative.

“Red knew I would come here one day. He knew my taste, my size, my favorite toiletries...he knew I wouldn’t have time to pack…”

Dembe simply looked at her, waiting.

“No. No. He knew I would come here soon. Not just one day. He knew this was coming now.”

“Elizabeth, Mr. Reddington has known this was coming since the day he took you out of that burning house.”


	12. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie ducks Dembe and tracks down Red. And Karakurt.

As the realization of all Red had done for her - not just today, but over the span of her entire life - Lizzie knew there was only one place she could be...tonight. Ever. At Red’s side.

Of course, Dembe disagreed. Ever so patiently, Dembe fended her rapid fire assertions, questions, and demands, but he stayed the course.

“Elizabeth, I risked Red’s trust by showing you that flat. You know I have your best interests, and Reddington’s, at heart. But I cannot agree to this. Raymond and I are like brothers, but if I allow you to put yourself in harms way, he will never forgive me,” Dembe said, still carefully studying the computer screen. He heard a familiar click behind his right ear.

“Then I hope you are more forgiving for what I’m about to do.”

Elizabeth had pulled a gun on Dembe for the second time in a week. Truly, she was full of surprises. Dembe hated what she was about to do, but he admired that she had the guts to do it. She was a woman worthy of Raymond’s adoration.

Lizzie never left home without her gun. Not since Raymond Reddington had entered her life and turned it upside down.

“I will shoot you, Dembe. I won’t kill you, but I will immobilize you, and then you’ll be no good to Reddington. Are you willing to risk that? Are you willing to risk his life that way?” she asked, backing up slowly towards the door of the suite.

Dembe could only watch as she closed and latched the door. He gathered his things as fast as he could, but when he reached the hallway, she was gone. He began searching the stairwells and elevators, but he was unable to find her.

Thankful that she’d thrown her still wet hair up in a messy bun, Lizzie had quickly used a hairpin to pick the lock of another apartment around the corner. It had a few newspapers out front, and she guessed no one had been home for several days. As she closed the door behind her, she was relieved to find that she hadn’t lost her lightning fast touch when she heard Dembe bolt into the hallway looking for her. Some things you didn’t learn at Quantico.

From inside the apartment, she pried open a window and shimmied down the fire escape, knowing that she had to beat Dembe to the pavement or it would all be for nothing. She ran for two blocks, and when she was sure Dembe wasn’t following her, she found a parking garage. Inside, she searched for small, black cars that were at least a few years old.

Again, her pre-FBI knowledge proved most useful. She was able to enter and hotwire a car in under two minutes. Sam would be proud, she thought, smiling as she drove away in the direction of the Audrey.

 

When Elizabeth pulled up across from the Audrey, she saw Ressler’s vehicle. If they were there, something had happened.

Not wanting to altert anyone to her presence - even the FBI - Elizabeth called Ressler from inside the car.

“It’s Keen. Where are you? Where is everyone?”

“Cooper didn’t call you?”

“No…” Lizzie knew that if Cooper didn’t call her, it was because he didn’t want her involved. And that, of course, meant he thought she was either involved in whatever was going down, or she could be a casualty of whatever was going down.

“We got report of shots fired in the Audrey. Apparently some congressman bought the place for his mistress. Guess she won’t be needing it now,” Ressler said grimly.

“She...she’s dead?”

“Yeah. The weird thing is, her throat was slit. The shots weren’t really necessary.”

“He was sending a message. He wanted people to find her body. He wants people to know he’s here, and that he’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants” Lizzie said, goosebumps forming on her arms. She pulled the soft cardigan closer around her.

“Keen, why do I get the feeling you know something about what’s going on here?”

“Oh, no. No. It’s just a profiler instinct I guess. Forget it. I could be wrong. I haven’t even seen the crime scene.”

“Right...if you say so. You gonna come help us or what?”

“I have to meet with Reddington, but keep me posted.” Lizzie hung up before Ressler could ask her any questions.

She knew Reddington wouldn’t be here if the FBI was crawling all over the place. That would be too high profile for him. The question was, where were Red and Karakurt? She hoped they weren’t together. She had to get to him first.

 

As she played through her mind all the places that Karakurt might have interest in, she realized that she was falling prey to that same weakness of hers. She was thinking like a cop.

“Don’t be a cop. Be a criminal, Lizzie. Think like a criminal,” she repeated aloud to herself from inside the car.

“SHIT!” she yelled loudly. So loud, in fact, that she worried someone would have heard her. By this point, it was early morning, and there could be early risers walking by on their way to work. She eased the tiny black Honda out on to the road and headed back to familiar territory.

When she pulled up to the motel that had been home sweet home for so long now, she felt a sinking feeling inside her stomach. One of Red’s cars was there. She parked far away and slowly approached the door to her neighbor’s room. Alice worked the night shift at a diner, and she wouldn’t be home for at least another hour.

Lizzie picked Alice’s lock as well, and entered the dingy room. She listened for noise from her room but heard nothing. Dammit, she cursed quietly to herself. The walls were too thick here. Did she pick the one motel in the whole world that had decent insulation? Wait...she did remember hearing Alice sing a few days ago, early one morning. The shower. Alice was singing in the shower.

Lizzie moved into the bathroom and got as close to the vent as she could. She could hear two voices - was one of them Red’s? They sounded angry. There was no yelling, but it was definitely intense.

“We’ve done this before, Mr. Reddington, and as I recall, it didn’t go well for you. How is your back these days, by the way?” The man’s voice was cold enough to freeze Lizzie in her tracks. She detected the faintest hint of a Russian accent, but he was good. To the untrained ear, he would easily pass as homegrown American.

“Oh, I’m doing remarkably well, thank you for asking. While we’re catching up, how did that promotion go for you? I hope that your inability to locate the fulcrum all these years didn’t put a wrench in your career plans.”

Lizzie heard what felt like a thundering crack of something, and Red was silent. She had to get to him.

The front door wouldn’t work. There would be too much noise as she picked the lock. Karakurt would kill Red, and then her, in an instant.

Lizzie exited Alice’s room, and walked around behind the motel, until she was at the bathroom window. It wasn’t very large, but if she held her breath, she might be able to slip in unseen...


	13. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In order to save Red, Lizzie must square off against Karakurt.

Lizzie held her breath, both physically and mentally, as she shimmied through the narrow bathroom window. Getting the privacy glass off was easy - the hard part was getting inside the bathroom without making any noise.

Her feet ached from running. Those slim flat slippers were not meant for anything other than lounging by the fire, drinking wine, curled up with the man you love. They were also apparently good for saving the life of the man you love - the thin soles allowed her to hit the bathroom floor without making a sound.

The bathroom door was not quite closed, and through the tiny slit, she could see Red, head slumped forward, tied to a chair. She covered her mouth to keep from screaming. There was so much blood. She had to believe he was alive - the alternative was...he was alive. He had to be. No other choice would allow her to live. Not without him.

Karakurt came into view, pacing the floor. Her hatred for him in this moment was almost more than she could bear. She balled her fists, and found herself grinding her teeth. So this was how Red felt every time she was in danger. She understood him now more than ever.

Karakurt was speaking to someone. Lizzie couldn’t see anyone else. It must be a cell phone, an earpiece.

“Nothing. He’s worthless,” Karakurt snarled.

More pacing.

“Do you think if I’d found her, I’d be wasting my time with this dried up piece of navy garbage?”

More pacing.

“Fine. I’ll begin.”

Lizzie didn’t know what he was going to “begin,” but if Red were still alive in that chair, she couldn’t risk allowing him to meet the same fate as the mistress back at the Audrey.

Lizzie waited until Karakurt’s back was turned and pulled her gun from the waistband of her pants and slowly edged the door open. Her heart pounded in her ears. She knew she was taking on the most deadly mission of her life, and she knew the odds were against her. Odds were, she and Red would both die, right here, right now. But Lizzie had been quite the gambler in her teens, and she knew how to turn the odds in her favor. She was betting on their lives tonight.

Karakurt continued rifling through his bags, setting various supplies on the table in front of him. Lizzie continued to slowly emerge from the bathroom. Though he never opened his eyes, Lizzie thought she saw Red’s eye twitch ever so slightly. There might be hope.

“Masha, darling, I thought you’d never show,” Karakurt said, never stopping his work.

Dammit. She’d been so careful.

Lizzie’s pause was just what Karakurt was counting on. Slowly, he stood and turned to face her. Lizzie never dropped her gun, but the name...the face...for a moment, she felt as if she were in a trance. She was spellbound by the reality of finally facing her biological father, and though she tried to fight it, her curiosity held her there for a moment.

“You know,” she said.

“Of course. Do you think I became who I am by being ignorant of details surrounding my own life and those of my...family?”

“Why are you looking for me?”

Karakurt chuckled, “Surely you don’t need me to answer that question for you.”

“I have it. So do several other people. I made copies. You can kill him - you can kill me - but it won’t matter. You’re not in control anymore.”

The veins in Karakurt’s head bulged out, and his anger seethed just below the surface. “Let me make something clear, Masha. I will not be made a fool by some woman. By my own daughter, if that’s what you want to consider yourself. Your mother was a whore. She was weak, and she failed at the most important mission of her life. I was left to clean up her mess. That includes you,” he spat.

“You really are evil. Family, love, none of that means anything to you, does it?”

“Ha. Profiler Elizabeth Keen gets it right. At least you are good at your job,” he sneered. He began pouring something on the ground, around the edge of the motel room walls. The strong odor reached her nose. Gasoline.

“Don’t move! I’ll shoot!”

“Oh, poor Masha. Weak like her mother! If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it already. But you can’t kill your poor, sweet old papa, can you, Masha dear?”

Lizzie’s hands were shaking, but she kept the gun trained on him.

“I mean it. Stop! I’m going to shoot!”

He faced her. “Masha, shooting me isn’t going to stop me. I’m far tougher than that. Besides, we both know what you’re really angry about. You’re angry about being abandoned by me. Or maybe by the fact that I’m willing to end your life in order to improve mine. Shooting will fix neither of those. And then, there’s your boyfriend. I’m sure you’re furious about what I’ve done to him. But Masha, shooting me won’t bring him back, either. He’s gone, dear,” Karakurt said, turning back to his work.

Crack!

That was all it took. Lizzie could handle her own father’s hatred of her. She could handle the taunting and the threats. But if he had been telling the truth - if he had killed Red - she would unleash all her pent up fury on the man who took away her chance at true happiness.

The bullet pierced him in the back, left side, but he kept moving.

“Not bad, Masha. Not good enough, either, but not ba-”

Just then, the front door came crashing down. Lizzie trained her gun on him, not knowing who was the greater threat. Then, she recognized his face - he’d been at the warehouse as one of Red’s guards. He’d been on the team that tried to find him when Anslo Garrick moved Red. She didn’t know his name, but she already liked him. He instantly attacked Karakurt, and the two fell to the floor in a tumbling heap. So this was what Red meant when he said he wouldn’t be alone.

As they tussled Lizzie went to Red. She pulled open his lids - his pupils responded appropriately. It was a good sign. At the same time, a gun shot went off behind her. Lizzie threw her body over Red’s, but nothing happened. At the same time, she heard a great WHOOSH and felt a strange rush of air - a breeze? - move across the room.

She turned to see that the mystery man and Karakurt were both motionless on the floor. Karakurt had killed Red’s man, but the wound she’d given him must have been more serious than he let on. There were more pressing issues, however.

The spark from the gun had ignited the gasoline. The motel room was on fire. Suddenly, Lizzie was a four year old little girl again.


	14. Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie and Red must save each other.

Lizzie stood motionless for what seemed like hours, hypnotized by the dancing flames. Then, she screamed. She screamed the scream of a frightened little girl, just like the one she’d let fly all those years ago.

Somehow, someway, that haunting, familiar sound made it’s way to Red’s subconscious, and he opened his eyes. “Li - Lizzie!” he managed to utter through the haze of smoke. It wasn’t loud, but the deep, gravelly quality of his voice could pierce Lizzie’s ears - and heart - under any circumstance.

“Red...I don’t...there’s so much smoke…”

“Lizzie, listen to me. You have to get me untied. I’m okay, sweetheart, but you have to get me untied. Lizzie! Look at me!” She raised her eyes to his. “I’m okay,” he said, softening his voice, “but you HAVE to untie me. Now, Lizzie! Now!”

The urgency of his voice - the expression in his eyes of desperation...and love? They roused her. Just like that, she snapped out of her trance. She was still shaking...and crying...but she knew what she needed to do. She grabbed a knife out of Karakurts bag and began cutting the ropes. In seconds, she had freed Red.

“Can you walk? We need to go out the back,” Lizzie said. The front entrance to the motel room was impassable.

“I’m fine. Knocked about in the head, but I’m fine. Lizzie we need to go now.”

Red boosted Lizzie out the window, and then pulled himself up and out, snagging the back of his dress shirt on the frame as he went.

He landed on the ground a little less gracefully than he’d intended, but he and Lizzie were safe and alive. And Karakurt was dead. He cared about little else.

“We have to move,” he said. The FBI, CIA, and the whole damned country will be on our doorstep in minutes.”

They began racing across the abandoned lots nearby when suddenly they saw Dembe standing next to an SUV, scowling. He opened the door and Red and Lizzie slid in.

“Take us back to Lizzie’s - take us to the safe house, Dembe,” Red said, leaning forward to talk to Dembe. As he leaned, Lizzie noticed the huge gash in his shirt.

“Red...your shirt, it’s ripped. Are you okay? Let me see…”

Red whipped around, “I”m fine Lizzie! I...I’m fine,” he said, trying to remain calm.

“No you’re not! Turn around!”

“Lizzie, I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong. Let’s talk about you. What you went through tonight - “

“Red, there were scars - large scars on your back,” she said quietly. “They were from the fire, weren’t they?”

“No, Lizzie. You were just there - no flames have touched me.”

“Not that fire,” she replied, still soft, still quiet.

Red was quiet.

“You’ve been carrying these scars all these years. They must have been so painful...you must have suffered so much, and for me.”

“The scars on my back...the physical suffering...Lizzie, they are nothing compared with the agony I’ve experienced knowing the pain and hurt that has come into your life as a result of my actions. I’d go through a thousand fires if it meant I could take it all back. If I could just keep you safe from all of these horrors.” Red’s eyes were damp, shining.

Lizzie unhooked her seat belt and slid beside him. Red stiffened.

“Lizzie, look at what has happened tonight. Look at all that you have been through - because of me. Because of my mistakes. You should keep your distance,” he said, turning away from her and staring out the window.

She placed her hand on his, and he could feel that she was trembling. “Red…” she said, her voice trembling, about to crack. He heard her voice - she was still traumatized from the fire in her motel room. She needed him, no matter how much he wanted to pull away and save her from himself. He whipped his head around. “Lizzie…” he said, pulling her to him, laying her head on his chest, “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

No words were exchanged as Dembe drove them the rest of the way to the safe house. Red kept one hand on Lizzie’s head, holding it on his chest. The sound of his beating heart, and the knowledge that he was alive and close slowed the beating of her own heart. His other hand stroked her lower back through her soft, cashmere sweater. He kissed the top her her head and rested his own there, inhaling the scent of lavender. She smelled like home. She felt like home.


	15. Temperature rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some hot Lizzington.

When they arrived at the safe house, Dembe opened the doors for them and they stepped outside, looking around at the calm, early morning dawn.

They followed Dembe up the stairs, when suddenly the heard loud, rushing footsteps from above, heading their way. There was nowhere to go, and Red threw Lizzie against the wall, pressing his body against hers, shielding her face from sight with his own. Dembe drew his gun.

Two children ran by, racing each other to the front door. When they saw Red and Lizzie pressed against each other, one sang out “Ooooooooh! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Dembe sighed and dropped his head. It had been a long day - or was it night - he could barely remember. He continued up the next flight of stairs before realizing that Red and Lizzie were not following him.

Lizzie laughed, embarrassed by the taunting of the children. Her cheeks reddened, and she turned her eyes down. Red didn’t move.

“Are you okay? Lizzie?” he asked, the look of concern still on his face. His face that was inches from hers. His eyes, his mouth...inches from hers.

She smiled, and slowly looked up. “Mmm hmm,” she murmured, realizing his hand was on her waist. She felt so soft under his touch. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it himself. He released the embrace immediately and cleared his throat.

“Well. Good then. Let’s continue,” he said, gesturing for her to go first up the stairs.

Lizzie rolled her eyes at the formality of his gesture, but she did as he asked.

As they entered the suite, Red went to the bar to make them each a cocktial. “It’s five o’clock,” he said. “A.M. instead of P.M., but I think we’ve all earned this,” he said. As he reached for the whiskey, Lizzie saw a new, red stain on the back of his shirt.

“You ARE hurt! You’re bleeding!” she said, rushing over.

“It’s just a scratch.”

“No, not just a scratch. We need to clean you up. It’ll get infected.” She grabbed his arm to lead him into the master bath.

“Lizzie, I’m fine” he said, resisting and pulling back.

“Raymond, listen to Elizabeth. She is trying to help you,” Dembe said. Red thought he could detect a faint smile on Dembe’s face, but he was hard to read.

“I don’t need help right now. You two should be the ones resting,” Red countered.

“Raymond, let her take care of the damn cut,” Dembe said, exasperated. Red couldn’t remember Dembe ever speaking to him that way. He was too shocked to argue. As he allowed Lizzie to lead him into the bathroom, he shot a bewildered look over his shoulder at Dembe, who was standing firmly in the middle of the room, arms crossed, silently laughing to himself.

In the bathroom, Lizzie began barking orders.

“Take your shirt off,” she said, rummaging through the cabinet to find the first aid kit.

Wincing, Red complied. Lizzie took the shirt from him and tossed it in the trash, on top of her own work clothes from earlier. She hoped he wouldn’t notice them and be reminded of the “cheese incident.”

Red leaned over the counter, hands spread on the surface, forearms flexed. He waited for the stinging of alcohol wipes, and yet none came. Head bowed, his raised his eyes in the mirror to find Lizzie staring at him. At first, he thought Lizzie was staring at his hideous scars and he almost lowered his eyes...but then he realized - she was staring at his arms.

“Something interest you, Agent Keen?” Red said, snapping Lizzie out of her day dream.

“This is going to sting she said,” beginning to apply the alcohol wipes to his long cut. Red inhaled sharply and clenched his jaw.

This continued until Lizzie was satisfied that the incision was sterile. She then covered it with gauze and tape.

“Now for that big scrape on your forehead,” she said. Red hadn’t even looked at in the mirror long enough to notice that he had a gash there as well. He’d spent all his time looking at Lizzie. The care on her face as she tended to his wounds was almost more than he could bear. His Lizzie, his light, was at her most beautiful when she didn’t know anyone was looking.

“Damn!” she yelled. She had spilled something on her yoga pants. “Well, I guess these are done for,” she said. She slowly removed the pants, and Red was glad his lower body was pressed against the counter...otherwise, she might have seen evidence of just how beautiful he thought she was.

Lizzie’s cashmere cardigan was just long enough to cover the necessities, but not much else. She realized she hadn’t put on any underwear beneath the pants, and blushed. She’d have to move carefully, she thought. 

Her long, athletic legs were on full display, and Red was thankful for the pain that was about to come. He needed the distraction to help him control himself.

“Turn around. Let me see it,” Lizzie said.

“Excuse me?” Red said, startled. Had she just said what he thought she said?

“The cut on your forehead. Let me see it.” Ah. Okay.

He turned around. “I can’t reach it,” she said. “Here, help me up.” Red gave her a boost. She was now sitting on the bathroom counter. “I can’t reach you from there - come here.”

Hesitantly, Red moved closer, positioning himself in between her legs. She began cleaning the wound, and he winced.

“I’m sorry - it won’t take a minute more.” She finished cleaning it. She paused, staring at his face, studying it’s every line and crevice, taking in just how handsome he was. Red was puzzled by the pause, and looked at her.

“There,” she said quietly, brushing her fingers gently from the cut all the way down to his chin. She suddenly felt bold...brave. She leaned in and kissed his forehead...his temple...his cheekbone...she moved her mouth to his lips…

He grabbed her wrists. “Lizzie…” he said, pulling back while still maintaining a firm grip on her forearms. He looked searchingly, pleadingly into her eyes.

“Red. This is what I want,” she said, smiling. She gently pulled her arms from his grasp, which had relaxed.

Lizzie hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pulled him closer into her, between her legs, until they were pressed against each other. She could feel the heat from his body against hers, and her cardigan, the belt loosened from all her movement, slipped off her shoulders...


	16. Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure Lizzington satisfaction. Totally M-rating.

“Lizzie…” Red said, between gasping for air, “...we can’t…”

“I think we already are, don’t you?” she said, pushing her mouth on top of his. Their tongues, hungry from months of wanting, found each other, slowly at first, sensually exploring each other. As Red’s hips pushed further into Lizzie’s, the kisses became harder, desperate. Lizzie felt him, hard and thick against her, and she pulled him even closer.

Red reached to remove the rest of the cardigan from Lizzie’s shoulders, staring for a moment in awe of her porcelain skin, beautifully sculptured shoulders, perfect breasts.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Awestruck, Red was at a loss for words and could only shake his head no. His mouth was slightly parted, but no words would come out.

“It’s me...you don’t...this was a mistake…” she said, reaching to cover herself with the cardigan.

Red grabbed ahold of her wrist to stop her.

“It’s you Lizzie, but this isn’t a mistake...at least, not for me, not if you’re sure this is what you want. It’s just…”

“You’re having second thoughts?” she said, her blue eyes showing a vulnerability so deep.

“God no, Lizzie. I’m having a million thoughts. You are quite simply the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. My imagination...it never did you justice. You put history’s most famous artists and sculptures to shame,” he said, hungrily reaching for her again.

He kissed her earlobe, then the space just below her ears, then her upper neck.... She grabbed the side of the sink with one hand and used the other to grab hold of his shoulder and upper back. She sank her fingers and nails into his flesh, not realizing how hard she was grabbing him. He didn’t notice - any pain that Lizzie caused him was pure pleasure now.

Red’s pants were off now, and he grabbed Lizzie, bringing her to the edge of the counter top. He was touching her, could feel her warmth, her wetness, and couldn’t deny himself this pleasure any longer. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice was telling him maybe he should stop - maybe he didn’t deserve this - but his desire was stronger and silenced anything else that voice had to stay.

He reached up, yanked her hair out of the now messy bun, and gathered her silky hair in his fist. He pulled down and back, hard enough to force her head back, exposing her neck and breasts as her beautiful body arched backwards. He kissed her exposed skin, working his way down to her left breast. His other hand reached up, grazing the bottom of her right breast, the top, and then - roughly - grabbing a handful of her soft, tender flesh. Lizzie moaned...again and again until finally, she felt his heat, his hardness, his thickness sliding in and filling up every inch of her.

She knew women said those kind of things sometimes to appease their lovers, but this time, she swore to herself, he was deeper than any man had ever been before. As their tongues returned to their previous dance, Lizzie pulled her mouth back, sucking and then biting his lower lip. Red groaned from somewhere deep inside.

“Lizzie...”

“Red…”

The thrusting and heaving and grabbing and biting and hands and hands and hair...it was all a blur. Neither could tell where one body began and the other ended. Lizzie felt more alive than she’d ever felt before. Red felt as if he’d come alive again after living in the shadows for far too long.

The thrusting reached a fevered pitch, sweat running down both of their bodies, and then came the exquisite explosion of the most powerful orgasms either of them had ever experienced. Lizzie collapsed onto Red’s torso, her body shivering to match the contractions of her orgasm. Red used all the strength he had left to hold her up.

He lifted Lizzie off the counter, legs still wrapped around his waist, and carried her into the bedroom. He pulled back the covers laid her down and climbed in next to her, wrapping them up in the soft, thick blankets. Neither lover said a word.


	17. Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie awakens...but where is Red?

Lizzie awoke to the late afternoon sun streaming in through the window sheers onto her face. She rolled over onto her back and reached for Red. Her left hand landed on top of the blankets. She turned her head to see where he was. His side of the bed had been roughly made up.

Confused, she went into the bathroom. His clothing was no longer in a disheveled pile on the floor.

She walked into the living room. His cocktail glass had been put away. His shoes were gone.

His hat wasn’t on the stand by the door.

Just then, the door to the balcony opened and Dembe walked in. “Good afternoon, Elizabeth,” he said.

“Dembe, where is Red?”

Dembe avoided eye contact and walked toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. “Mr. Reddington was called away on business, but said you should stay here as long as you like. He says this is all yours.”

“Will he be gone long?”

“Most likely, but I will be here if you’re worried about safety.”

“Shouldn’t he be worried about safety? He’s been in the crosshairs nonstop for the past week.”

“For now, the cabal is quiet. The two of you sent quite a message by handling Karakurt. They are trying to maintain a low profile and regroup. That affords Mr. Reddington quite a bit of time to handle other business,” he replied, sitting down at the table to continue.

Lizzie walked back into the bedroom to get dressed. She felt hot tears spring to her eyes as she looked around. She didn’t want to spend the day in the room where she’d given herself, body and soul to him. She’d finally let her guard down. She’d finally been bold. She’d been strong and vulnerable - all the things Red was always saying he admired about her. And she knew he’d wanted it, too. So then why did he leave her?

She reached for the cardigan she’d worn the day before, but thought better of it. She’d only remember how it felt, sliding off her shoulders.

She opened the closet door again. Black skinnies and a grey t-shirt felt more her speed today. Over it, she threw a dark grey field coat. She grabbed a red scarf - no - she put that one back. A pale blue scarf. And some sunglasses. How did he know she’d been coveting those Chloe sunglasses? She slipped on a pair of feminine converse sneakers, with laces in the back, and headed to the living room.

“I’m going out for some coffee. Maybe lunch. Would you like anything, Dembe?” she asked, sounding sadder than she meant to.

“No, thank you. That is very kind of you,” Dembe said, with a look of pity on his face. He wouldn’t bring it up, but he could see she was at a loss after Red’s sudden departure.

She picked up her bag and walked out the door, down the stairs, and onto the busy street. As she headed toward a cafe she knew was just a few blocks away, she was thankful she had on the sunglasses. It was a dark day, but they performed a far more important job - they hid those hot tears that had been waiting to tumble out of her sad blue eyes.

Lizzie entered the cafe and took a seat. She placed her order and leaned back against the padding of the booth. She’d gotten a seat facing the rest of the cafe. As she watched the people come and go, she wondered if any of them, too, had been left alone this morning. Were any of them trying to avoid the sadness of an empty bedroom?

As she put her mug back down, she felt her phone vibrate. Her heart raced as she fumbled for her phone.

Oh. Ressler.

“Keen,” she said.

“Glad to hear you’re still with us. Quite the mess was made of your motel room last night. Are you okay?”

“I heard. I’m fine...I just...I needed some time.”

“Well, lucky for you the bureau is writing this off as a crazy Russian terrorist who just happened to come after the FBI in any way he could. Something tells me your pall Red probably knows a lot more. Why don’t you have him meet us in thirty at the office?”

“I can’t...he’s gone,”

“GONE?”

“No, no. Sorry. I mean, he’s not here. He’s away...Dembe said something about business. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”

“Figures. Destruction everywhere and Raymond Redding has mysterious ‘business’ that prevents him from answering a single question.”

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Lizzie said, hanging up. She placed the phone in one of the pockets of her field coat. As she did, she heard the faint rustle of paper. She felt around and drew out a folded note.

The paper was a rich, creamy, heavy texture. Expensive. The outside said simply, “Lizzie,” written by hand, using an elegant fountain pen.

It had to be from Red. But how did he know she’d choose that jacket, on that day? She opened the card and began reading.  
“Lizzie,

I trust Dembe has taken care of you today and that you’re well on your way to the office. I know they will have many questions for you, some of which you’d rather not answer. Tell them whatever you like, and please know that I’ve taken every precaution for your safety. I would never leave without knowing that you would be completely secure and protected in my absence. It is always my first priority.

God knows I didn’t leave you easily. You looked so peaceful this morning as you slept. I think it may have been the first time I’ve seen you truly happy in months. I couldn’t bare to wake you. I couldn’t bare to yet again interrupt your peace.

Last night will be forever etched in my memory. And that is where it must stay. I came alive again, if only for a brief moment, and that will have to sustain me in the future. You are young and vibrant and strong and soft and all of the things that make only the best of men worthy of your company. Lizzie, I am not that man. My life and all the trappings of it would never be right for you. You deserve better.

I cannot say with any certainty if or when I’ll be back. Your safety is my peace of mind as I take care of business. Remember, though, that wherever I am - whatever I’m doing - if you’re in need, I will be there for you. It may not be in the ways you expect or want, but Lizzie, I will always protect you.

They say we write to taste life twice, and in writing this note, I am able to relive all that we have had together.

Always,

Red”


	18. Lock and Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie tries to move on, but receives a special, expensive gift from Red.

Dating had to be the most exhausting endeavor known to man, Lizzie thought as she picked at the last of her dinner. She was on her third date with a very nice man. An accountant for...some firm...she couldn’t remember. He seemed nice - sweet - but there hadn’t been any chemistry.

She wanted to like him - knew she should like him. But “should” had never been a word that factored into her life. “Shoulds” never turned into “dids” for Elizabeth Keen.

Two months had passed since she’d woken up to find Red gone. She’d been staying in the suite he’d created for her. Every few days, a gift would arrive. He always seemed to know what she wanted or needed. And each gift only contained a tag that said “Always, Red.” No return address, and no indication of how it had been shipped. No way to get in touch with him. Dembe said he wasn’t able to even deliver messages to Red from her (couldn’t...or wouldn’t?).

A beautifully wrapped gift would arrive on her doorstep, and that was that. She would’ve thought Dembe had selected things on Red’s behalf, except that the tag was handwritten. The same handwriting, the same fountain pen. It was him. At least she had that.

She’d written Red a dozen letters, all variations of the same theme. Love, longing, and a heavy dose of bitterness at being left alone. For all his talk of how wonderful she was, and how she deserved so much, he was still the one who ultimately had hurt her the most - now, maybe, more than ever.

So she decided to move on. Or try to at least. Dating was not as great as she remembered. Things seemed so much easier when she was young. Now, she had so much baggage - baggage she could never even share with a new love. She’d never betray Red to anyone - not even a man she fell in love with. Deep down, she knew that probably meant doom for any new relationship she might start. If she couldn’t share her secrets with someone, how far could things really go?

So dating now was a pastime. A way to fight the loneliness. And the boredom. With Red gone, there were no Blacklisters to hunt down. The spark was missing from her life.

“Elizabeth? What do you think?” Her thoughts were interrupted by her date’s question.

“Hmmm?” she slowly answered, refocusing her eyes on him. “Oh God, Bill, I’m so sorry. My mind wandered...work...crazy week, you know?”

“Yes. Well, maybe we should get the check then. I can see you’re tired,” Bill said, visibly disappointed.

“Oh, you don’t want dessert? I thought you loved the desserts here?”

“Yes, that’s what I was asking you about when your mind...wandered.” He was definitely hurt.

“I’m sorry, Bill, please - let me make it up to you,” Lizzie said. She felt terrible about hurting him.

“Elizabeth, I think it’s very clear that wherever your mind is, it’s not with me. And it hasn’t been on any of our dates. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to cut my losses. Have a good evening,” he said, placing cash in the bill holder and leaving the restaurant.

There was still a glass of wine left in the bottle, and Lizzie figured there was no sense in wasting it. She drank it, maybe a little too quickly, but then again, who was there to care. She caught a cab home and trudged up the stairs.

There, she found yet another package. Wrapped in expensive gold paper, with a beautiful cream bow. And, as always, a single red rose wrapped up with the bow.

“Always, Red,” Lizzie read aloud again, for what seemed like the millionth time.

She went inside and tossed the package on the table. She was too sad and down to even get a rush from opening it. She put on her yoga pants and cashmere cardigan (time had softened the blow of that cardigan, and though she’d never admit it, wearing it made her feel close to Red) and poured herself a glass of wine. It was the last of the bottles with which Red had originally stocked her apartment, and she’d been saving it for a really bad night. Losing Bill wasn’t a big deal - she couldn’t barely remember his face, even now - but the reasons she would never find love again were.

Her eye caught a glint of something on the table - the present. She’d almost forgotten it. She picked it up and pulled apart the ribbon. She put the rose in a vase, as she had with all the others. A daily reminder of him that she couldn’t bear to toss.

She removed the tissue paper to discover several smaller boxes. The first contained a device that she’d seen a million times at the FBI. It was used to sweep for bugs, tracking devices, any kind of electronic signal. Not exactly romantic. She couldn’t fathom why he’d give her something so mundane.

The second contained a tiny key, shaped similarly to a screw driver, but with it’s own unique set of notches and markings. She’d never seen anything like it.

The third box was from Cartier. She’d received many expensive gifts, but never anything like this. She couldn’t contain her excitement as she opened the box.

Inside was something she’d only seen pictures of in magazines. A Cartier love bracelet, in rose gold. She slipped it on her wrist, and applied pressure, assuming she would need the key to close it. Hers was different, however. It locked in place with the slightest pressure. The key didn’t fit.

“What the hell is the key for if it doesn’t fit?” she said aloud. Baffled, she slipped it inside the zipper compartment of her wallet. Maybe Dembe would know. Meanwhile, she had no way of getting out of the bracelet.

She got angry at the thought. “If he thinks he can keep tabs on me - force me to wear some bracelet as a tracking device - he can think again! If I don’t know where he is, then he doesn’t get to know -” and then she realized. The first box she opened. She used the device to check the bracelet, and sure enough, it was clean. He wasn’t tracking her.

He’d sent the device to make sure she knew it was a gift, and only a gift. A love bracelet, that she’d always have with her. A part of her forever.


	19. Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team learns that the Cabal is back in business. Lizzie and Ressler head to NY after them.

Liz entered work the next day, the long black sleeves of her jacket covering her new bracelet. She didn’t want to answer any questions about the expensive new piece of arm candy she was sporting. The feeling of it rubbing the scar on her wrist was enough to remind her of Red every second of the day. He’d probably intended that, too. He always knew...everything, it seemed.

“Agent Keen. Briefing on a new case in five,” Cooper yelled across the floor as she went into her office. She nodded to indicate she’d heard him, set her things down at her desk, and joined the rest of the team.

“Good morning,” Cooper began, “We have reason to believe that an international crime ring whose interests range from low-level racketeering to high level human trafficking has arrived this week on U.S. soil.” Pictures of five men and women appeared on the large screens at the front of the room.

“I don’t need to tell you how much our team needs a win,” he said, “which is why I want us to go after the big fish. I want to take down Zero.” He enlarged the photograph of a woman who appeared to be no more than 14 or 15.

“She looks like a child,” Ressler said, in disbelief that the bureau could possibly be threatened by someone so young.

“Exactly, Agent Ressler. That’s the whole point. Zero is believed to be former North Korean intelligence who defected and used her skills and contacts to head up the illustrious crime ring you see before you. We know very little else about her. In fact, all we do know is that her name comes from her track record. All of the men and women who have crossed her have perished. She doesn’t leave anyone, big or small, alive. Her young, innocent appearance makes it easy for her to travel undetected. It also has caused many of her opposition to misjudge her - with deadly consequences. Zero is believed to be at least 30 and deadlier than criminals with twice her experience. These photos were taken two days ago in New York. Let’s get moving,” and with the hustle and bustle of the team underway, Lizzie found herself so absorbed in the new case that she forgot about the delicate bracelet dangling underneath her left jacket sleeve.

Several hours, phone calls, and keyboard strokes later, the team reassembled to discuss what they’d been able to learn and what their next plan of attack should be.

“What’ve you got for me?” Agent Cooper boomed as he stepped into the center of the cirlce of agents.

“Based on data I was able to access, I can confirm that Zero and her cohort have been in New York within the past 24 hours. No charges or signals indicate they are planning on leaving anytime soon, so it’s safe to say they are most likely still there. I’ve pinned them down to these few blocks,” Aram said, showing a city grid on the screen.

“We think she is planning on bringing in a shipment of weapons and possibly even as many as 50 people sometime in the next two days,” Ressler said.

“And she’s pretty confident about her odds of success,” Lizzie piped up. “She’s not hiding her face or moving around with any security detail. She feels comfortable, in control. Protected, even,” Lizzie said, thinking of her own sense of confidence that was bolstered by the knowledge that Red would always do what he could to keep her safe.

“Protected? By whom?” Cooper asked.

“Don’t know...someone powerful. With money.”

“Are you saying someone within the U.S. is making this operation possible for her?”

“I’m saying it’s very possible - very likely. We need to look into her financials though, to know exactly who is smoothing the path for her.”

“Aram, see what you can find,” Agent Cooper said. “In the meantime, I want agents up there and on the ground. When we figure this out, I don’t want to waste time sending people up there. I want to be ready to go at a moment’s notice!”

Cooper sent Lizzie and Ressler home to pack their bags and hop on the next flight to New york.

 

When she arrived home, Lizzie grabbed a small suitcase off the top shelf in the closet. She began rifling through the clothing, selecting dark, neutral colors, which were her preference. She also selected the red satin number she’d come across the first day she slept here. She’d looked at it, tried it on, a million times, but she’d never had a reason to wear it until now. Zero and her associates dined at the finest restaurants and socialized at the most exclusive clubs. Lizzie would need to blend in seamlessly if she wanted to get close to them.

Once in New York, Lizzie and Ressler checked into their hotel and set about outlining their plans.

“Aram says that Zero’s money is coming from some large dummy corporation?” Ressler asked.

“Not just any dummy corporation. One owned by Tom Connolly and associates,” Liz said grimly.

“Of course. Fantastic. Fucking fantastic.”

“Did you honestly think they’d go away, Ressler? That just because they suffered a setback that we were done with them?”

“Fine. I get your point. Are we even prepared to deal with this, though, Keen? We’re all alone up here. As much as it pains me to admit it, I’d feel a hell of a lot better with Reddington here,” he begrudgingly admitted.

Wouldn’t we all, thought Elizabeth.

“We don’t need him. I’ve been up against them before. I can’t promise safety, but I can promise you that we are evenly matched,” she said, giving off way more confidence and courage than she was feeling on the inside. “We can do this.”  
The two went downstairs and hailed a cab. Tonight, they were dining casually at a hotel bar across town. All they needed was to get close enough to hear conversations - to verify intel - and then tomorrow they’d make their big move.


	20. The Cardinal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie sees Reddington. Does he see her?

As they entered the hotel bar, agents Keen and Ressler surveyed the space. It wasn’t the fanciest bar in New York, but it was above average. Strange - usually Zero only appeared in top of the line establishments.

What made this bar unique was that there were many entrances and exits. Lizzie supposed that was why Zero chose the place - easy to get in, easier to get out. Quickly. They seated themselves close - but not too close - to the group. They wanted to be able to listen without appearing to eavesdrop. Lizzie sat facing Ressler, and therefore Zero, while Ressler scanned the exits and entrances.

Lizzie had to hand it to her - Zero was stunning. Her petite, slender frame gave the illusion of stretching on for miles despite her height of 5’2”. Her dark, shiny hair looked like it belonged in a shampoo commercial, and her smile was coy, flirtatious, and confident. She looked like a queen holding court - the attention of the group, including several handsome men - was definitely focused on her and only her. Her bodyguards were in charge of focusing on everyone else.

“This looks like it might be promising,” Ressler said, drawing Lizzie’s attention to a middle aged man approaching Zero’s group.

“A word, madame,” the man said, sounding somewhat irritating.

“Go ahead,” Zero said, looking annoyed at having her conversation interrupted.

“I’m to ask you when you’ll be finished. My employer is growing anxious and fears that your presence may be bad for his image.” the man said. His condescension was clear.

“His image? I’m the best thing that ever happened to that man’s ‘image’,” she scoffed. “Does he think I go out with every old man who asks? Being seen with me made him appear virile and powerful. Stocks will soar. He should be thanking me,” she stopped to sip her martini. “As for the timeline, things are as previously agreed upon and scheduled. In fact, I’m meeting with the Cardinal shortly. Gus here will show you out.” Gus grabbed the man by the upper arm and escorted him out of the bar.

“The Cardinal? Since when does Zero get involved in religious affairs?” Ressler asked. Liz was just as baffled. A quick text to Aram proved fruitless. No Cardinals were in the area, and the alias didn’t pop up on any database.

Then, it hit her. He was here. Not just in New York, but scheduled to arrive at the bar within minutes.

“Ressler! The Cardinal. Cardinals are Red. It’s Reddington. Must be some code name. She’s scheduled to meet with Reddington,” Lizzie said breathlessly.

“I’ll tell Cooper to get men on hand to pick him up,” Ressler said, reaching for his phone. “He’s been hiding too long.”

“No - don’t - wait. Let’s just see what happens. I can’t explain it, but I don’t think Red has turned on us. And if I’m wrong - if he’s in with Zero and her group - then we can bust him along with the rest of them. I promise,” Lizzie said, trying to tell herself she meant it. “In the mean time, we need to go where we can’t be seen.”

They left some cash on the table and moved to a seat behind some large palm fronds. It was dark in that corner, and though they couldn’t hear as well, they’d have a concealed place from which to watch the meeting.

Five minutes later, Lizzie saw Dembe. Her heart skipped a beat, knowing that Red would soon be likely to follow. Dembe scanned the room and, finding it secure and safe, motioned for Red to join him. The two approached Zero’s table.

“My God, have you gotten younger since last I saw you?” Reddington exclaimed. Zero let out a tiny laugh and lowered her head demurely. Red seated himself next to her and gave her a brief kiss on the mouth, though it lingered longer than Lizzie thought was necessary.

The two talked for several minutes about seemingly nothing, and Lizzie noticed that Zero was just as enthralled as any other woman by the sound of Red’s voice. Her jealousy was alive and boiling inside of her, but she knew she had to focus. She couldn’t let Ressler suspect anything, and more importantly, she couldn’t let anything jeopardize the mission.

“Why don’t you see for yourself tomorrow night?” Zero said, flirting outrageously with Red. In turn, Red leaned in closer, allowing his fingers to trace the skin from her knee to the extremely short hemline of her mini dress. Lizzie remembered the way his fingers felt when he was touching her -

“I’d like nothing more, my little bird. What time?”

“Let’s have dinner first, Red. I know of the perfect place, and it just so happens to be right above the arrival location of the shipment,” she smiled.

“Perfection as usual,” he said, and kissed her goodbye. This time, Lizzie was positive he used his tongue. Was that his hand on the woman’s ass? She was livid.

So this was where thing stood. He slept with women, left them, gave them presents, and felt entitled to walk back into their lives when it interested him. When it was good for business. She’d been telling herself all this time not to get attached, and now she could kick herself for allowing her heart to feeling anything. Hadn’t her time with Tom taught her anything? When would she learn?

Red exited the room, followed by Dembe. As he passed by coat check, however, he did something Lizzie had never seen before. He placed his hat on a peg...and left it there. Since when did Red leave his hats behind?


	21. The Hallway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie spots Red on the dance floor with Zero. They have a heated hallway conversation.

Ressler and Lizzie waited five minutes before exiting themselves. As they passed the coat check, Lizzie nonchalantly swiped Red’s hat.

Once in the car, Lizzie began examining the apparel. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but Red wasn’t sloppy. Everything the man did was intentional. And maddening. Intentionally maddening. So then why the hell did he leave the hat behind? And why hadn’t Zero picked it up?

As Ressler spoke with Aram on the phone, Lizzie spun the hat around and around in her hands. Then - she felt something - a tear? Red would never wear anything that was in less than impeccable condition. She turned the hat upside down and shone her cell phone inside to examine the lining.

Sure enough, there was a break in the lining - what looked like a deliberate cut. She slipped her fingers underneath the material and found a thick piece of paper. When she pulled it out, she recognized it as the same paper Red used to write to her. Though the handwriting on the outside was the same, the pen appeared to be just a cheap ballpoint. He must have jotted this down in a hurry.

“Lizzie - go, now. Get out.”

“Ressler!” she yelled, forcing him to hang up, “Ressler he left us - me - a message. I think we’re in danger.”

She passed him the note.

“And how exactly does this help us? Get out of the bar? The hotel? New York?”

“I don’t know. But it means we’re right about the Cabal’s involvement. If Red is here, this is big.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ressler said.

“Neither am I.”

 

The next evening, Lizzie readied herself in her hotel room. She slipped on her red dress, knowing Red had chosen it for her. Next came the smokey eye - her signature move on special occassions. She pulled her hair back simply, and added some small, red drop earrings. Black heels and clutch came next. Her bracelet - always a part of her now - completed the outfit. She grabbed a soft, black cashmere wrap on her way out the door.

When Ressler saw her enter the lobby of the hotel, even he had has breath taken away. “Liz...you look amazing.”

“Shut up,” she said, blushing.

They hopped in the car and headed toward the rendezvous point where Red and Zero were to meet. Lizzie felt a flush spread across her chest, knowing she’d be seeing Red soon, face to face, in the outfit he’d selected for her. How would he react, knowing she was wearing his choices? How would he feel, seeing that she deliberately defied him? Catching him off guard made her feel powerful, and knowing he’d be there made her feel safe.

The only thing she wasn’t looking forward to was seeing him with Zero. That, she could do without.

They entered the dimly lit room to see one of the most beautiful restaurants Lizzie had ever seen, even in pictures. The candlelight flickered along the walls and illuminated the faces of the patrons. It made everyone look even more beautiful than they probably already were, Lizzie thought.

As they were seated, Lizzie’s eyes searched the room. She didn’t see Red, or Zero, at any of the tables. Then, she scanned the dance floor...and there, in the middle, the two were slowly swaying together, bodies pressed against each others.

Lizzie thought she was going to be sick.

“There - in the middle of the dance floor,” Ressler announced.

“Yeah, I got it. When is the wine coming?”

“Keen, you sure that’s a good idea - drinking on the clock?”

“I think we need to look like we belong here. Even if we just take a few sips, we have to fit in.”

The wine came, and Lizzie had maybe a little more than a few sips. Just to fit in, she told herself. She never took her eyes off Red and Zero.

Zero was wearing the highest heels Lizzie could imagine, and a tight black dress that left little to the imagination. Red’s hand moved gradually down Zero’s back, lower and lower, until it rested right on her rear.

“I’m going to the restroom,” Lizzie announced, standing up abruptly. She sure as hell wasn’t going to lose it - on assignment - in front of Ressler.

The waiter showed her where the powder room was, down a long, winding hall, just wide enough for two people to fit. It was dimly lit, and Lizzie was thankful that the one or two people she squeezed past wouldn’t be able to see the emotion on her face.

Inside the women’s room, Lizzie placed her palms firmly on the counter. She bent over, face toward the sink, allowing herself to breath. “It’s just a job,” she told herself. “You had a one night stand you regret. Big deal. Lots of women have the same regret. You’re not special. This is common. Boring. You will be fine,” she whispered. Just then the door opened and Zero sashayed in.

“Cute dress!” she exclaimed to Lizzie as she positioned herself in the mirror next to her. “Too much champagne? I know the feeling!” Zero laughed. If Lizzie didn’t know better - so much better - she’d think Zero was a sweet, young college grad, a little tipsy herself.

“Oh, haha, yes. Don’t want my date to realize how much I’ve had!” Lizzie played along.

“Eat some bread - that always helps me,” Zero said, putting her lipstick away and heading back out the door.

Lizzie waited a few minutes, until she thought Zero would be back in the dining area, and then exited the powder room. As she came to the first corner, she heard footsteps - a man’s, maybe? - and prepared to shift to the side to allow him to pass.

In an instant, Lizzie found herself shoved roughly against the wall. She panicked, reached for her gun, but her arms were pinned at her side.

“What the hell are you doing here,” came the gravelly voice she knew so well. She looked up into Red’s eyes as they blazed with anger...and something else...fear?

“I could ask you the same question!” Lizzie fired back, struggling to free her arms from his firm grip.

“I told you to leave. Yesterday.”

“And I take my orders from the FBI!” she said, trying desperately not to notice his lips, inches from her face, his smell, wafting into her nose. His hands, holding her arms, right at hip level...just like they were that night in the bathroom. She caught his eye, looking her over, lingering at her decolletage, drinking her in.

“It isn’t safe - I can’t protect you here,” he finally said, quietly.

“Well, luckily for me, I can protect myself. And I have Ressler.”

“Ressler? Ressler? That mall cop you call an FBI -”

Just then, someone came around the corner. Red pressed his mouth against Lizzie’s and released his left hand to caress her face. For a moment, Lizzie forgot everything but the feel of his lips on hers. As the bathroom door shut behind the woman, Lizzie pulled back, angered. She knew he was just trying to make them look like they were having a heated lover’s quarrel - to avoid suspicion - but it felt...cruel.

“What do you think you’re doing? Won’t your girlfriend get jealous?” Lizzie taunted, her hands pretending to check her lipstick, when really she was touching, memorizing the place where his lips last touched hers.

“My girlfr-” he cocked his head at her, “Lizzie, when will you learn that my business is never that complicated - or simple?”

“Maybe when you learn that you can’t have everything your way. That you can’t take what you want and then leave the rest of us to clean up your mess,” she said, starting to choke back the tears.

“Is that what you think I’ve done? Lizzie…”

Ressler came around the corner, and they pulled away from each other not a minute too soon.

“Reddington, I don’t care what you’re doing here, but I swear to you if you get in my way tonight, I’m taking you down with everyone else.”

“Agent Ressler, I wouldn’t dream of it. I was just explaining to Agent Keen that it would be better if she left. Now. She’s not safe here. You need to get her out of here, Donald.”

“No can do, Reddington. Agenet Keen is my partner. We stick together - we don’t leave each other in the lurch just because things get tough.” Did Ressler know? Suspect? At any rate, Lizzie stood a little taller, knowing that even if she didn’t have a romantic partner, she had a work partner who had her back right now.

“Care to explain why you’re here tonight, Reddington?” Lizzie asked, feeling her fire coming back.

“Agent Keen, you know how much I enjoy fine wine and dancing. Surely you haven’t forgotten?” Lizzie blushed, remembering their night at the Syrian embassy.

“I mean with Zero and her crew. What business do you have with them?”

“My business is my business. And I suggest for your sake that you stay out of it,” Redding said. He turned on his heel and walked back down the hallway.

“What was that all about?” Ressler questioned.

“I have no idea. But I’m sure as hell going to find out,” Lizzie replied.


	22. Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie discovers exactly what Red and Zero are working on.

When Liz and Ressler returned to the dining room, Red and Zero were back on the dance floor, moving together as if they were run. It made Lizzie sick.

“Dance with me,” she said, turning to Ressler.

“Excuse me?”

“Dance with me,” she repeated “Whatever they’re talking about, we need to get closer to hear it. Dance with me.”

Reluctantly, Ressler got up. He thanked God he’d taken dance lessons before his marriage to Audrey.

As Lizzie and Ressler moved around the dance floor, they gradually inched closer to Red and Zero.

“Can you hear them?” Lizzie whispered, placing her head closer to Ressler’s shoulder. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could see Red’s eye twitch as he caught sight of her closeness with Ressler.

“Not yet. We need to move in a little,” Ressler said, guiding her slowly closer.

Ressler listened for a short period, then pulled Lizzie several feet away so he could speak more freely.

“A shipment is coming. Zero says she doesn’t know the name of who hired her - only that it’s a large company. Reddington wants to get in on the action. Says he can provide protection and easy exit out of the country for her when it’s all over, for a fee.”

“What does Zero think of this plan?”

“She’s afraid of involving someone else in the plan. She doesn’t want to stress her employer. It sounds like she’s afraid.”

They were interrupted by a tap on Ressler’s shoulder.

“May I cut in?” It was Reddington.

“That’s up to Elizabeth,” Ressler replied.

“Lizzie, please, don’t embarrass me in front of all these people! What will they think if they see me, turned down by such a beautiful woman?” Red said, his patented charming grin spreading across his face.

Lizzie rolled her eyes and Ressler went back to their table.

“Well?”

“Well what, Lizzie? Can’t I enjoy a dance with a beautiful woman?”

“As you said yourself, it’s never that complicated. Or simple.”

They took a few turns around the dance floor without speaking. The feel of his strong hands on her body almost made her weak, and Red felt himself having to guide her more than usual. He looked down at her, her blue eyes sad and questioning, and he wanted desperately to hold her, to kiss her. Instead, he knew he had to push her away. Far away.

“Lizzie, I want you to leave. You have to leave.”

“Not going to happen.”

“I can’t keep you safe her. And I can’t focus with your life in danger.”

“And I’m supposed to care? Why would I care about whatever shady business dealings you have going on?”

“Lizzie, the cabal is behind this.”

“I’m aware. What I don’t understand is why you’re suddenly on their side.”

“I’m not on their side! I’m trying to end this. Zero and I have...a past. I’m trying to capitalize on that. If she lets me in the door, I can stop this from going any further. I can cripple them. For good.”

“And to hell with her? I don’t like her, and I don’t like what she does, but is that your MO now? To sleep with women and them use them as you see fit? Then leave their lives in pieces...or danger?”

That last one hurt. Lizzie could see the pain in his eyes - the way his brows shifted, his jaw moved. He was suffering because of what she thought of him. She thought he’d used her and left her...in danger. Didn’t she know that everything he did was for her? For her safety?

“I’m not going to hurt her. I’m going to get her out of here. She’s dangerous, but she’s nothing compared to the cabal. She’ll be safely out of the country by sun up, Lizzie,” he said quietly.

The band stopped playing, and Reddington gave a slight bow to her. “Leave, Lizzie. Please...please leave,” he said, turning his back and walking to the table where Zero sat.

 

Several hours later, after dinner, more wine, dessert, and more dancing, Red and Zero gathered their things and headed down the winding hallway where he and Lizzie had their previous encounter.

“Let’s go,” Lizzie said to Ressler as they hustled after the infamous pair.

At the end of the long hallway, Red and Zero slipped through a door marked “Employees Only.” Lizzie and Ressler waited a minute before cautiously following after them. What they found was a short staircase leading to an underground storage area.

“This must back up to the parking garage,” Ressler whispered.

They followed Red and Zero to the back corner of the facility. There, they saw several men opening a series of large crates.

“Ressler.”

“I know.” Inside the crates were weapons, alright, but not just any weapons. Nuclear warheads. Enough to devastate the United States, or whatever nation the cabal decided to attack.

“Oh Ray, thank you so much for your help tonight. Without your men, we’d be unloading and repackaging for days. I should have listened to you all along,” Zero cooed at Red, hanging on him and caressing his chest.

“It was my pleasure,” he replied, kissing her on the cheek as they watched. Lizzie recognized Dembe among the men “helping” Zero. In fact, she recognized several of the men from other encounters with Red.

“He’s got the place under complete control,” Lizzie said, astonished.

“He is good. I hate it. But he is good,” Ressler admitted.

“Well, little bird, to which country shall we fly tonight?” Red asked her.

“Anywhere but Iran,” she said, laughing.

“Excellent point my dear. How about someplace tropical?”

“Anywhere with you, Ray.” she said.

“Why not Iran?” Ressler whispered.

“My guess? That’s where these are headed.”

“Then why ship them here?”

“I don’t think the cabal wants to ship them to Iran. I think they want to use them on Iran,” Lizzie said, sadly.

“But then we’d -”

“Exactly. And they could mobilize the army. War generates a lot of profits for a lot of people, Ressler.”

A black SUV pulled up to the storage site, and everyone, including Red and Zero, froze.


	23. The Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Lizzie are taken by Connolly. Lizzie discovers Red is wearing a unique watch.

Tom Connolly got out of the car.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” he said, smiling as he approached Red and Zero.

“Indeed it is, though you appear a little under dressed, Tom. Tsk tsk,” Red said, shaking his head disapprovingly. If Red was rattled, he didn’t show it.

“Had I known I would be meeting the illustrious Raymond Reddington, I would have changed,” he returned. “Zero, you didn’t mention this to me.”

“I’m sorry...I don’t...we’ve never met. I spoke only through messengers,” she said. Was the deadly Zero actually flustered?

“Surely you must have some idea at how I feel about changes being made without my knowledge.”

“Mr. Reddington is only trying to help us. With his resources, I am able to complete the job in half the time. It was for your benefit,” she said, regaining her composure.

“Don’t worry so much, Zero. I’m only having a little fun. In actuality, you’ve done exactly what I thought you’d do. You’ve invited Mr. Reddington, and that makes me very, very happy,” he said, pulling a gun and aiming it at Reddington.

Dembe, followed by all the other workers, immediately did the same, only they trained their guns on Connolly.

Lizzie and Ressler took that as their sign and broke cover.

“FBI. No one move! Drop your weapons!” Ressler yelled as he and Lizzie moved in.

Connolly laughed and lowered his gun. Dembe and the others followed suit.

Ressler moved in to cuff Connolly, and as he did so, Connolly said “Right on cue,” with the same, oily smile he reserved for his most delicious. “A little help, please?” he called over his shoulder. At least thirty armed guards walked slowly into the area. They were surrounded. And outnumbered.

Lizzie and Ressler lowered their weapons and dropped them on the floor.

“Agent Keen, so glad you could make it. Something told me that if I could interest Red, you wouldn’t be far behind.”

Red’s eye twitch was back in full force. He’d been used as bait for Lizzie. He’d failed her. He hadn’t been able to push her away, he hadn’t been able to convince her to leave, and now he’d been outplayed. By slimy Tom Connolly. His jaw was set and the glare from eyes looked strong enough to kill.

“You’ve got what you want, Connolly. You’ve got the weapons, and you’ve got me. What does any of the rest matter? Surely two lowly FBI agents are a little beneath you,” Red said, smiling.

“I think you know better than that, Ray,” Connolly smiled. “We’ve come to learn just how important this agent in particular is to you. If we have her, then we have you.”

He had Red there, indeed.

“Put them in the back,” Connolly ordered. One of the armed men grabbed Lizzie roughly. She stumbled in her heels, falling down, hitting her knees on the concrete. Red sprang forward, furious, but another guard pointed the butt of his gun into Red’s chest, blocking him.

“What’s that, Ray? You’ll volunteer to go with Agent Keen? Why, that’s very generous of you. The director will be thrilled,” Connolly said. The man shoved Lizzie into the back seat of Connolly’s SUV, and Red followed. He didn’t need any prodding.

In the backseat, Lizzie and Red could only look at each other. Red’s eyes had an almost watery look to them, and if she didn’t know better, she’d say there might be tears forming there...the way he looked at her, so earnestly. He was saying so much with those intense eyes…

She had to look away. She couldn’t let emotions run her right now. She needed to find a way out, for both of them.

Her mind raced, trying to think of an escape plan. There weren’t any paddles to shock anyone with, like there had been in the ambulance. She needed tools, or a weapon. She kicked herself for leaving her clutch back on the floor of the storage facility. They probably wouldn’t have let her bring it anyway, but she should have tried.

What about something sharp, she thought? The heel of her shoe...too dull, especially after walking on concrete. Her earrings? They’d fallen off during her hallway encounter with Red, or maybe it was when she fell on the way to the SUV. Either way...gone. Maybe she could break something? The glass? Bulletproof, no doubt. Seatbelts were cloth.

Red’s left arm held on to the car door, and Lizzie caught a glimpse of something shiny. A watch. A watch that probably had tons of metal parts. Or glass parts. Something - anything - that could be turned into a sharp object.

Slowly, she pointed to her wrist, and then at his wrist.

“Locked,” he mouthed. “Key?”

Lizzie looked confused. A key, to a watch? She motioned to him to show her the watch. Slowly he reached across his body with his left hand. The driver looked back in the rearview mirror. Lizzie held Red’s outstretched hand, pretending she was reaching for comfort. They couldn’t know what she was up to if she was going to succeed.

There, she saw a beautiful, expensive, men’s watch on Red’s wrist. It was emblazoned with the word, “Cartier.” Where the metal clasp with the release mechanism should have been was instead a small, strangely shaped opening. Just big enough for…

The key. He’d had his watch specially made. Of course he did, she thought. Red wasn’t the kind of man to be caught wearing what everyone else was wearing, even if it was only the smallest portion of the world’s elite who were wearing it. He’d had a watch made, just like he’d had a love bracelet specially made for her. And he’d sent her the key.

Still holding Red's left hand, Lizzie’s right hand covered her mouth. She wasn’t sure if it was to keep back the smile of pure joy or whether it was to keep her from crying out loud, but either way...she was now held by her own emotions. Tears rushed down her face. Despite everything she didn’t know, and everything she did, she was always with him...and he was always with her. Red leaned toward her, wanting to hold her.

“Don’t cry, Agent Keen,” Tom Connolly interrupted their thoughts, “We’ll be there soon.”


	24. Tape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Lizzie face off against The Director.

Connolly and his men placed black cloth bags over Lizzie and Red’s heads, ushered them out of the car, down what must have been a long hallway, and into an elevator. Several floors later, they were taken into a room and the bags were removed. It looked like a small board room. there was a pitcher of ice water and some glasses. There were also napkins, and fresh fruit. No utensils though, Lizzie noticed sadly. She supposed they weren’t stupid enough to leave anything like that behind.

She walked to one of the conference chairs and slumped forward, placing her head on her crossed forearms. She was exhausted. The last 48 hours had contained such a mix of highs and lows that her brain wanted to shut down.

“Let me see your knee,” Red said gently as he walked towards her. Slowly, she sat up and swivelled in the chair to face him.

“You’ve got some nasty cuts there,” he said. “I seem to remember someone warning me about the risk of infection in a similar situation.”

Red reached for one of the cloth napkins, and the water. “It’s not exactly sterile, but it will have to do for now.” Red kneeled before her, gazing into her eyes. “I’ll try not to hurt you, sweetheart.” She felt like his words had more than just the one meaning.

Lizzie winced as he worked, but he moved as quickly as he could. When he was finished, he leaned in closely to her knee and placed a gentle kiss where she’d been hurt. He then blew on the cuts. His fingertips traced patterns on the skin just above her knee, relishing the silky smooth feel of her skin, as he looked into her eyes. The cold air rushing across her bare legs, his face and hands so close - it was almost too much to take.

“Red,” she said, not sure of how to continue.

He looked up at her, looked deep into the blue pools of her eyes, “Yes?”

“Please don’t…” she began crying.

“I”m sorry...I’ve overstepped. He began to stand.

“No! No! Stay!” she grabbed his forearms desperately, pulling him back down. Red had never seen her so wild - so frantic. “What’s wrong Lizzie? What’s wrong?” he said, concerned now more than ever.

“I don’t care what happens. I don’t care what happens to me! Life, death. It doesn’t matter -”

Red shoved himself away from her. “Don’t, Lizzie. Don’t talk like that. You’re all that matters.”

She chased after him, putting herself in front of him again. “You have to listen to me! NOW! We don’t know how much time we have left. And honestly, I don’t care if I live or die. The only thing that matters it that I’m with you. You’ve put these bands on us - we’re tied together. We hold each others keys. Every touch of this bracelet on my scar reminds me of how much I love you.”

Red felt like he’d waited his whole life to hear these words from her.

“And if you go...if you leave me again...I’ll die. And I think you will too,” she sobbed out the last sentence. “Please, please don’t leave me - ever.” Red seized her into his arms, squeezing so tightly he worried he might injure her, but she didn’t complain.

Red walked her to her chair and sat her down. Kneeling before her, he spoke again. “Lizzie, I’m afraid I’ve let my harrowed past cloud my judgment...stand in the way of my future. And I’ve severely underestimated you. You found me in New York. You did what I told you not to...all because you love me. You are my equal in every way, and I’m sorry I haven’t said it - haven’t let you know. I’ve loved you for so long, without hope, that I think…”

“None of that matters now, Red,” Lizzie said, placing both hands on the sides of the kneeling man’s face. “I don’t care what comes next, or what came before, I just want - “

The door to the room opened, and Tom Connolly walked in.

“How touching. Sorry to interrupt. The Director will see you now.”

Lizzie and Red stood up, straightening their clothing, as The Director walked into the room.

“No need to stand on my account. Please, sit.”

Lizzie and Red simply stared at him.

“Have it your way then.” He nodded to Connelly, who also stepped into the room and then closed the door.

“The situation is...complicated...at the moment. But we soon believe things will be straightened out quite nicely. Thanks to your appearances at all the local hotspots where Zero was seen this week, we have mountains of evidence that the two of you are highly integrated into her most recent...acquisition,” he said. He was speaking of the nuclear weapons.

“Given that Mr. Reddington is one of our very own most wanted, and given that the two of you appear to have a ...personal...relationship, I’d say most people would be more than ready to believe that Agent Keen has turned on her own country in order to help her lover,” the director laughed.

“You see, we don’t even need to kill you! Isn’t that magical? All we have to do is turn over our evidence - evidence that our justice system will verify,” the Director said, looking at Tom Connolly. Connolly nodded in agreement.

“Cooper won’t -” Lizzie began.

“I don’t give a damn what Cooper might do. Besides, thanks to Mr. Connolly here, your Agent Cooper owes his very life to us.”

“What makes you think we won’t release the fulcrum to the world?” Lizzie said defiantly.

“Agent Keen, we’ve burned your apartment. We’ve searched your office and car. We even ransacked the place at the Audrey, as you well know. If there were copies of the fulcrum, we’d have found them by now. All I need from you is your fingerprints. You know, evidence on the warheads and all,” he said. Connolly moved forward and grabbed Lizzie’s wrists. Red, enraged by the thought of that mans hands on Lizzie in any way, swung at him, landing a punch squarely on his jaw. Knocking Connolly backwards and into the plate glass, the punch rendered him unconscious. As the glass shattered, Connoly fell to the ground, cut and bloodied nearly everywhere.

“That was unexpected,” the Director laughed. “No matter, I have -” He was stopped, cut off in the middle of his next threat, by a gun held in front of his face.

“Dembe, perfect timing!” Red said gleefully.

A worried voice came booming over the building’s PA system. “Mr. Reddington? Agent Keen? Dembe? Is everything okay?”

“Aram!?” Lizzie exclaimed, “Aram? Is that you? How -”

“Ask Mr. Reddington,” he said. “Agent Ressler is on his way, along with backup. We’ve got everything on tape.”


	25. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Lizzie return to the apartment and are left alone.

As the FBI swarmed the building, the Director was taken away in handcuffs. Amidst all the commotion, the questions, the EMTs checking to make sure they were okay, Raymond Reddington and Elizabeth Keen never took their eyes off of each other.

Lizzie’s wide blue pools of emotion met Red’s, heavy lidded and concerned. No matter how much she tried to tell him, she knew he just wouldn’t accept the truth about them - about himself. He was worth it. He was worth the world - he was her whole world.

Red met her gaze with hope and fear. Hope that maybe...in some way...they’d have a chance, but fear that this was only another false start. He’d wake up tomorrow, face a new danger, and be unable to make Lizzie’s dreams come true. He hated disappointing her almost as much as he hated putting her in harm’s way.

Dembe drove them back to Lizzie’s apartment, and in the back seat, Lizzie shot a series of rapid fire questions at Red. What she really wanted to know was what he was thinking and feeling, but she knew he’d never talk about that in front of Dembe. She’d have to settle for details about how he saved them both.

“The warheads...they were fakes?”

“Mmm hmmm. Poor thing - she never knew I’d swapped them out.”

“And where are the originals?”

“They should be safely locked up somewhere on US soil,” Red smiled.

“How did Aram and Dembe find us?”

“My watch.”

“But there weren’t any tracking devices in them.”

“There weren’t any tracking devices in yours,” he said, “I never made any promises about mine.”

“And the PA system? The video feed?”

“Lizzie, do you really think so little of our dear Aram? The man is one of the best I’ve seen. He can gain access to almost any system. Some you don’t even know about,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. She knew he’d asked for Aram’s help in several situations with which she was never involved, but she’d never forced Aram to spill the details. “Even Ressler managed to help Dembe elude Connolly’s men. Just when I’d given up on that boy,” he laughed.

She smiled and shook her head. She would never say it, but Ressler was sweet...a sweet boy. Red was a man, in every way. Still, Lizzie was lucky to be surrounded by such amazing and loyal co-workers.

Red and Lizzie entered the apartment alone; Dembe said he needed to check on something else for Red. Lizzie suspected he was only trying to give them some time alone.

“Cocktail?” Red offered.

“Absolutely. Make whatever it is a double. I’ve taken the next three days off - I’ve earned it,” Lizzie said, relaxing into the luxurious leather of the couch.

After mixing their drinks, Red walked over to her.

“That dress...you looked stunning tonight, Lizzie,” he said, his deep voice betraying something else...emotion?

“Thanks,” Lizzie blushed, “though I suppose I should be giving you the credit. You’re the one who picked it out.” She looked back up at him, her face still turned down.

He placed her drink in her hand and sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

“Lizzie, we need to talk,” he said, and Lizzie knew she wouldn’t like what would come next.

Lizzie placed her drink on the coffee table and slid over next to him, sitting on her knees on the couch. She leaned closer to him, almost facing him head on, and placed her right hand on his knee.

“The last thing we need to do is talk,” she said, allowing her hand to drift higher up his thigh. He pushed it gently away.

“Lizzie, listen to me. This is not a good idea - “

“What about this, then,” Lizzie said, standing up in front of him, inches from his knees, “Is this a good idea?” She slid the straps of her dress down, allowing it to fall in a pool of deep red silk at her feet. She stood before him in only matching black lace strapless bra and panties. All garments he had picked out...for her.

Red’s eyes slowly moved over her, lingering in his favorite places. After several seconds, he licked his lips and dryly said, “We can’t…”

Lizzie moved forward, and positioned herself on him, straddling his lap. She ran one hand over the top and back of his head and the other down the front of his chest.

“We can.”

Red shifted uncomfortably, closing his eyes, trying to block out what was in front of him. If he allowed himself to look - to drink her in - he knew he’d lose control and it would all be over. He grabbed her hands and held them to his chest.

“Lizzie, there’s nothing more I’d love than this...nothing more I love than you...but you must know by now my life will always put yours in danger,” he said. He was breathing heavily.

“And you must know that fighting this - fighting us - is useless.” Even with her hands pinned, she leaned in and flicked her tongue against his earlobe. Red shuddered.

“I can’t live with myself if I continually place you in danger.”

“And I can’t live with myself I let you keep me away,” she whispered, moving lower to his neck. His grip on her hands had loosened and she was able to slip free of his grasp. She began loosening his tie, then removed it. She started unbuttoning his buttons, feeling him swelling low beneath her.

“Once we start this, I fear there will be no turning back…”

Lizzie pulled back just enough so that they were eye to eye.

“Red, since the moment you entered my life, there was no turning back,” she said, kissing his chest, continuing to unbutton him, working her way lower...and lower...


	26. Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Lizzie must talk about what's happened. (The conclusion of this story.)

Lizzie unbuckled and unzipped his pants. She worked lower until she found him, hard and straining against his own skin. Ready for her.

Not wanting to move away from him for even a second, she slid her panties far enough to the side to allow him in. She exhaled, half moaning, half joy, at finally having him inside her again - at finally being joined in the most intimate way possible. At this moment, no one was closer to her than him. And she was the only wrapped in his arms, searching his mouth with her tongue, sliding up and down on his lap, and held safely in his heart.

To Red, it seemed like time stood still - like it took an eternity, one blissful eternity - for him to fully penetrate her. A perfect fit, with not a centimeter to spare. He slowly slid his hands up her porcelain skin, unhooking her bra. There she was - in front of him, touching him, kissing him, holding him within her. God, she was breathtaking, and she didn’t even know it. He took her in his mouth, over and over again kissing, sucking, gently biting every inch of her breasts that he could. He didn’t know when they’d get a chance like this again, and he didn’t want to waste it.

Lizzie had never felt more confident, powerful, alive. This strong, independent man wanted her - he needed her - and he couldn’t resist her. He could argue with her all day - tomorrow - if he wanted to, but now, he was hers. He wanted this as much as she did, and she knew there was no turning back.

As the tempo of their lovemaking increased, Red raised his hips, held Lizzie tightly, and placed her on her back. Positioning himself over her, Lizzie took her eyes of his lips for a moment and gazed as his flexed arms, holding himself over her without crushing her. There had always been something unspeakably sexy about his forearms, and she ran her hands over them, holding tighter and tighter as she orgasmed around him.

The delicious sound of her moans and screams - her sexy whimper as she came - were too much for Red, and moments later he too climaxed, inside of her. He collapsed beside her on the overstuffed sofa, never for one moment allowing their bodies to cease touching. They both wanted to be there, intertwined in every way, for as long as their bodies still pulsed and raced in the afterglow. Slowly, they both dozed off, Lizzie’s head tucked under Red’s, his arms fully wrapped around her torso.

 

Lizzie awoke with a start. She shot up, looking wildly around. “Red!” she screamed.

“I’m here, Lizzie! I’m here,” he said, walking around the corner from the kitchen, “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong!” he exclaimed, rushing to her side, sitting next to her on the sofa.

“I had a dream, and then I thought...and then I didn’t see...I thought you were gone,” Lizzie said, visibly shaken.

Red, holding her hand, dropped his head.

“Lizzie, so much damage has been done. These moments between us...these nights...they’re not reality. When my life abruptly comes back in the morning, we’re still left with the same ugly truths. I’ve hurt you. I’ve placed you in danger. There’s every likelihood that I may continue to do so, especially if we intertwine our lives more than they already are.”

“Yes, you’ve hurt me. But what you don’t see - what I kept trying to tell you - is that the biggest hurt of all would come from your abandonment of me.”

“I’ve never abandoned you - you’ve had everything you needed! You’ve been safe!” Red said, shaking his head, baffled by her words.

“Physically, yes. Emotionally? Mentally? You couldn’t be farther from the truth. I need more than an apartment or clothes...or even bracelets. I need you - physically and emotionally - here with me,” she said, and then, lowering her voice, “And don’t forget that I’ve hurt you, too. I’ve accused you of some terrible things because I couldn’t see the bigger picture - because I couldn’t trust you. But Red, I want to put all that behind me. Behind us.”

Red sat, silently, for what seemed like an eternity.

“Even if that is true - even if there’s a chance that the hurt can be put in the past...I don’t deserve someone you, Lizzie. All this time, you’ve wanted me to see you as an equal, believing that I didn’t think you could handle truths and trials.”

“Yes, but Red, haven’t I proven myself your equal? Surely you’re not that blind,” Lizzie said, shaking her head.

“No, in this way I’m not blind. The truth is, Lizzie, I never saw you as an equal - and I still don’t.”

The hurt in her eyes was more than he could bare, so he hurried to continue.

“I’ve never seen you as an equal because you are so far above me...I could never see fit for you to lower yourself to be with me, a damaged, shell of a man.”

Lizzie reached for him, held him, even though his body tensed. “It’s time to trust me, Red. You’ve believed I couldn’t handle the truth, but in the end, it was the best thing for me. Now, you need to trust me. You need to trust me to give you the truth, and the truth is, you’re worth everything. To Dembe, to Mr. Kaplan, to the men and women you trust with your life. But most importantly, to me. You are worth everything to me.”

Red raised his face, looked into her eyes, and kissed her so slowly, so gently, that they felt as if time stopped. In that moment, they both knew that they loved and were loved in the deepest sense of the word. They knew that, no matter what might come next, they would face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed writing my first piece, and how much the comments and kudos have meant. There are some things I'd change (remove, add, clean up), but I can truly say I've walked away from this piece so thankful to be part of such a wonderful fandom! XOXO

**Author's Note:**

> This is, quite literally, the first piece of fiction I've written, and certainly the first I've ever let anyone else read. I'd truly appreciate feedback, especially from those of you who are more prolific writers than I!


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